DA: X10 Torri's Mission
by Darwin
Summary: Torri is an X8 on a mission, to stop the renegade X10, Kito, from undermining everything Manticore stands for. That Quest gets twisted into an evershifting search for lost Transgenics and a stranger that everyone seems to want badly. 5 of Projections
1. Defection

X-10: Torri's Mission

X-10: Torri's Mission

This story intertwines with "Kito's Story" and runs through the events to nearly a year after the end of "After the Fire". I'm back to the Action Genre, but there will be some romantic interludes to this story. I hope you enjoy!

Darwin

Prologue: Defection

Torri moved at a quick clip down the hallway toward Lydecker's office. She looked like a small freight train moving down the hall and all that she approached moved clear of her path. Her short curly hair was neatly slicked against her skull. Combined with her short five foot two stature and thick 140-pound build she was often mistaken for one of the men. Anyone else would have been offended, Torri just didn't give a rats butt. She had always been very no nonsense, the essentials and nothing else. On her forehead stood out her designating barcode, unlike most of her brethren whose codes were black hers was sharply pink, by some twist of her genetic makeup. Not that a black barcode would stand out she was very darkly skinned. Her eyes were very light brown with just a hint of green in them and her pupils held to the recent standard, slightly oblong. 

Her dark skin glistened with sweat, she was in pain, but was intent not to show it to those around her. Kito had gotten her good that was for sure, using her own momentum against her as he redirected her into the bole of a tree. She didn't remember much after that, she woke up in the infirmary, dizzy and in pain. The doctors said he had cracked a few of her ribs with that little bit of maneuvering. She should still be in the infirmary and a part of her wished that she still were. But she had been summoned for debrief about Kito's escape and she was intent on getting there as soon as possible. She knew Lydecker was mad, and that was going to fall square on her shoulders being in charge directly of the Manticores stationed here on this base, being the second in command behind Lydecker himself. She squashed the butterflies she was feeling, she had no idea what he was going to ask her, nor how she was going to explain his suddenly erratic behavior.

She went over in her mind time and again why Kito had found it necessary to throw his spotless reputation out the window such as he had. Down the line he had been a consummate soldier, not a single disciplinary problem on his record. He was always intent, on time and duly courteous to his superiors. His marks during training had been exemplary not only the physical but the bookwork as well. That was why he had been chosen over some of his elders to be her second in command, he had shown so much potential. If assigned to an outside duty he was always successful and usually well within his allotted time for the mission. 

At least that was the way of it until the night that Tima had shown up, something about that night had changed him somehow. She wished she had been there to witness it, then she might have understood the shift in his personality. She had been on assignment in Oregon at the time and had only been debriefed on the incident when she had demanded to know why a Manticore X-10 was doing time on perimeter patrol, that was nothing short of degrading for someone with as much training as they had. Things had quickly degraded after that. She had pulled him aside, being his superior officer to debrief him on the incident of that night. He had admitted to his inability to perform to standard when his sister had been marked for termination, but he had laid no blame on anyone but himself on that count, telling her that he had deserved the punishment that Lydecker had chosen for him. His words had belied him though, she had seen something in the young soldier's eyes that had been disconcerting, disillusionment. She had dismissed Kito thinking that he could deal with whatever the source of that feeling. She had sorely misjudged him on that count, and now she wished she had been more proactive in finding out what exactly he was thinking. She felt a pang of guilt in not assessing his mental state better. She had been caught thoroughly by surprise to find herself and Kenai pitted against one of their own when they were dispatched. They had only been told that there had been a security breach.

She stopped trying to analyze what was already the past, trying instead to formulate answers for the questions that Lydecker was sure to have for her. She paused briefly in front of his door taking as deep a breath as her tender ribs would allow and then rapped twice smartly. She waited at stiff parade rest waiting for a response, sure that she was being looked over. She practically could feel the camera lens above her recording her presence.

"Come!" she heard come loudly from inside the office as the door in front of her clicked softly. Popping to stiff attention she stepped forward pushing the door inward and stepping inside the almost homey office that Lydecker possessed. It was done in forest green and browns, hardwood and brass. It looked more like an office someone would possess in their house, not something that should be at work. She would have been impressed by it, but this was not her first time in the place. She and Lydecker maintained close liaison in regards to the operations in the field and the general running of the base.

"X-8-222 reporting as ordered, sir!" She said smartly in her resonating alto voice.

Lydecker looked up at her his lips pursed and his eyes narrow, "Torri," He said in her familiar name, He never seemed to like the use of designations, she had often wondered why, "Please sit down."

"Thank you sir, however, I would prefer to stand," She said smartly, surely she would get in that chair and never get out again, the pain would make her want to stay there, it was a very comfortable chair. Yes she was better off standing.

He nodded standing up and stepping in front of her, "Report on the defection of X-10-352. What happened after Kito got topside, Torri?"

"X-10-352 somehow managed to free himself of the squad that had been responsible for his capture, myself and X-10-121 intercepted X-10-352 as he made for the perimeter fence. There was an altercation in which we attempted to subdue 10-352, we were unsuccessful and he escaped. X-10-121 and myself pursued X-10-352 through the forest, being the faster of the two of us I was in the lead. X-10-352 intercepted me and incapacitated me. From the report I received in the infirmary he also neutralized X-10-121 and escaped the area. There has been no sighting of X-10-352 since."

Lydecker nodded, turned away and stepped back in behind his desk, "Had you noticed anything strange about Kito's behavior in the weeks prior to his defection?"

"Sir?" Torri asked, as the butterflies rose again.

"I thought I was pretty clear, X-8-222, what was his mental state?" He repeated.

Her insides twisted again, she knew he was mad when he made a point of using her designation, "Sir X-10-352 seemed disillusioned from what I could tell. If I may make a conjecture?"

"Go ahead," Lydecker permitted.

"Sir I think it had something to do with the appearance of X-10-321, and no offense Sir, your reaction to her."

"Explain," Lydecker said his face closed.

"Well again this is only conjecture, Sir and second hand at best. By the reports I received he only balked when you threatened to kill X-10-321. All other problems to this point seem to originate from that event."

He nodded again remaining silent for long moments, "The same reason had occurred to me," He added softly, "Understand, Torri, that X-10-321 would have been unsuitable for reinstatement. She had been on the outside for much too long. The success rate on that has been very low," She saw him wince as if that was a personal failure on his part.

"No question Sir, Standing orders require termination of any Manticore not currently working with the parameters established," She watched as he nodded again seeming to need that reassurance, She blinked slowly turning her eyes toward him, "Sir, permission to pose a question?"

"Please, Torri, you know I value your thoughts," Lydecker said seeming suddenly very frail, looking his age for once. She rarely saw that, but she could honestly say she was one of the few that he would let his guard down around.

"What was Kito doing in building 241? What were you doing there, Sir? All intelligence I have places that as an abandoned building."

"Not everything is as it would seem Torri," Lydecker said then, "There are several groups of up and coming soldiers in that building. Kept secret from the committee for reasons I am not allowed to divulge."

Torri looked at him sideways, "And I was not notified? Sir is your trust in me lacking?"

"No, no… Nothing like that. You are an exemplary soldier and a good commander. Unfortunately there are some things that I must keep from you for your own protection."

Torri nodded accepting that unconditionally, that was the way she was trained, "Understood, sir."

"Good, as long as we understand each other," He said sighing, "One more thing."

"Sir?"

"I need to send Kenai on assignment," He started, "I am sending him to Seattle to track down Kito."

"You really think he went there?"

"I think he went after his sister, and I have reason to believe that she is staying in the Seattle area."

"Whatever you need, Sir," Torri said.

The next several weeks were chaos, Torri never got her chance to go back and recuperate more. Word of Kito's defection spread rapidly and she remained busy trying to put fires out in the form of some of the transient Manticore's attempted tries for a repeat of the X-10's success. They successfully halted all of the attempts, but it was taxing on her and the morale of her unit keeping them in check. The want of freedom had finally lost its grip on her troops and she hoped this morning would hammer the last nail in freedom's coffin.

They currently stood in formation, at quarters, each of her remaining supervisors, Blade, Tempest and herself standing in front of their units. She glanced next to her seeing the fresh face taking temporary charge of Kenai's unit and then looked quickly down to the end, seeing the young X-11 that had been meritoriously promoted, taking charge of Kito's unit, she felt that chill again. It was conspicuous, his absence, and not just to her. 

The boy's designation was X-11-141, his comrades had taken to calling him Stomp, because he usually put his competition in the dirt. He was nearly Kenai's height, though not nearly as handsome in her mind. His face was average, with brooding dark brown eyes and matching hair. His face was square and she could not recall ever seeing him to anything but frown. He was thickly built belying his speed in a fight. He had been chosen because he was decisive, took orders well and took no crap from his subordinates.

The one taking Kenai's division was X-9-342, Monica, not exactly the most forceful person, but she would do in a pinch. She had dishwater blonde hair drawn up neatly in a tight bun just below the crown of her head, her eyes were hazel leaning more toward the green and she had a pretty rounded face that showed just a hint of either Mexican or Asian in her bloodline. She was taller than Torri but not by much, though she was thinner framed, much more feminine in appearance.

They had been called here because, Lydecker was going to speak to the troops about the recent events to try and get their heads back in the game it needed to be in. She felt her mind blank out as he began to speak, she'd heard it, more times than she could count, though a small part kept track of where he was so that she could respond as necessary when responses were required.

It seemed forever before Lydecker stopped talking, that was odd because she never knew him to be long winded. Her insides twinged at having that kind of thought about a superior. She was on edge and it was this whole situation she knew. Again the thought rose up, why? Why would Kito turn so far away from everything he was? What had he found in building 241 that had caused him to try and escape the only life he had known? Then her thoughts wandered to how he might be fairing in the outside. He had been out there before, but on a mission in a carefully controlled circumstance. He had never had to live out there for more than a week maybe a month, and that was always supplied.

Lydecker had finished his speech and all around her soldiers, Norm and Transgenic, were cheering, proud to be a part of the team. Well Lydecker could certainly tame a crowd, who did that remind her of? Oh yeah, Hitler.


	2. The Return

Chapter One: The Return

Chapter One: The Return

Torri started awake to the urgent beeping of the implant in her ear, sitting bolt upright in her rack. She reached up automatically and activated the two-way communication function of the device. Each of them was implanted with the device when they were just a few years old, taught how to use them by four, it was an integral part of being Manticore. The implant was small, just a little larger than a grain of rice, placed under the skin near the auditory canal. It transmitted the auditory vibrations to be understood as a conversation to the person receiving it. She wondered sometimes if the Norm's thought them possessed when they began talking to no one. As she understood it there was a tracking device also integral to the unit allowing Lydecker, the committee or anyone with access to their codes and keep tabs on their where a bouts. She had wondered silently why they had not contacted or tracked Kito after he escaped from them. It would have been a logical thing to do, considering that Kito might in fact want to come back, or they could retrieve him easily by tracking him down with the device. If that was the case why did Kenai get deployed to track Kito down?

"X-8-222," She said sleepily even as she checked the time, midnight, she had just gotten to bed. 

"Ma'am," the young male voice on the other end said, "The perimeter alarms have sounded, we have intruders," She listened a moment her eyes widening as the voice on the other end explained the situation.

"I'll be ready momentarily," She said and pushed on the implant to shut it off. She pushed out of bed and was dressed and ready within five minutes already headed for her predisposed post. It was a situation they had feared, and had planned for. It was as if Lydecker knew this was going to happen.

Torri was at her post in less than fifteen minutes and from there it became a waiting game. She stood at the lead of her troops every bit the picture of patience and confidence. Inside she was seething, bored beyond tears at the assignment she had been given. Her unit was assigned inside building 241, well away from the center of the action at the moment. They were one of two units assigned to either side of a corridor set up to be a trap. She and Tempest had been chosen because of their expertise set to close the gate on the five insurgents that first contact had reported inside the base.

Kito and Tima were both in the group according to the reports as well as two that had been recognized from Lydecker's files as X-5's from the twelve that had escaped in 2009. The fifth was a man that no one seemed to know a mystery man. By early reports he seemed to possess the same capabilities as those he was with. She felt her jaw clench slightly, wondering who he was and who he belonged to. She didn't like unknown circumstances, or people thrown into an already volatile mix.

Torri felt that slight shudder in the ground, checking off the step in her mind of the game being played out in the tunnels below this building. They had set up several sections of tunnels with "collapses", mounds of dirt built up with very narrow passages between. Once the party had gone through it a small detonation would occur bringing the rest of the carefully stored debris falling into the opening and trapping the intruding party, forcing them to surrender or fight. The first fifty soldiers would then take them into custody and bring them before Lydecker. There were multiple groups in various places both in the underground tunnels and the building itself set to deter, annoy and generally slow the group down. She honestly doubted that they would stop this group, five Transgenics was not a group to trifle with even when the odds were ten to one. They were here to rescue one of their own. That was what Lydecker had feared. He had detained an X-5, one X-5-452, one of the most defiant one of the twelve escapees from 2009 that he had somehow recovered about four years before. Another tidbit of information that he had not trusted her to have until recently. It was last week as a matter of fact and while she wondered why the woman had not been terminated she was sure that Lydecker had good reason to keep her alive. He had mentioned that she was special… but he did not say just why. There was another interesting note for her to add to her mental encyclopedia, this group was after a Transgenic that Lydecker had been holding here for research. and somehow, Kito had found her, escaped, and then brought a group back here to free her. She quickly became angry, angry at herself for allowing Kito to continue in his duties when she knew he was under duress, angry at him for betraying them all to a group of strangers.

She sighed trying to refocus on the task at hand, and hoping to get the chance to see some of the action she was hearing echoing faintly through the halls and vibrating through the floor. She and her team were here to make sure that if the group did make it to their objective that they would be surrounded and their retreat cut off. Even Blade had gotten a more active assignment than she had! So much for R.H.I.P. She adjusted her assault rifle slightly getting circulation back into her arm as she watched the hall before her and listened to the echoes of action coming closer as the time dragged on.

Her heart beat a little faster the louder the sound became until she could almost hear the hushed voices of the insurgents just down the hall and around the corner from where she was. She was breathing fast in anticipation of the order to move in. There was a small moment of silence which was broken by some low talking and then a male voice saying, "What the…. Logan!" Then loud pounding on the door they were in front of.

That was followed closely by the descending beeps in her ear that told her that it was time to move in, "Let's go" she ordered in a low carrying voice to her troops. They responded quickly quietly and without question to her order.

They moved swiftly, covering ground quickly and Torri was proud to see Tempest exactly matching her progress from the opposite side of the hall. She was even more satisfied to see the surprise on the faces of the four standing trapped outside the door. They froze as the halls filled with Torri and Tempest's teams.

"Surrender your weapons and put your hands in the air!" Torri ordered looking down the barrel of her gun at the group.

There was a stunningly handsome dishwater blond who seemed to be in charge and he nodded to the rest who began to lay their weapons aside. She glared at Kito as he protested, but the blond man convinced him of the futility of trying to fight free. Well he at least had a head on his shoulders.

She pressed the implant in her ear saying, "Sir"

She heard Lydecker himself reply to her both in her ear and echoed in the radios around her, "What is it Torri?"

"They're in custody, sir."

"Good, keep them there and await further orders," Lydecker said sounding pleased about something.

"Yes sir," She replied pressing the implant again to shut it off. She relaxed her aim knowing those in her company would keep the group in line allowing her gaze to move over each individual. She looked more closely at whom she had already assessed to be the leader. He had a wide stern face with sharply defined cheekbones. He glared at her with brilliant blue eyes defiance etched into ever feature. He was just over average height but well muscled. Beside the blond leader of this group was a woman of Asian descent with sharply slanting brown eyes and a flat-featured face. Her pitch-black hair was long even in the braid that she currently had it in coming to mid thigh. She was tall and lithe, sinuously graceful with slightly browned skin. She was measuring them Torri could see, but her face held no expression as she regarded her captors. 

In front of her was a girl that had to be Tima, the Girl that had somehow convinced Kito that Manticore had done him a disservice in their treatment of him. She was also of Asian descent but was shorter, leaning toward a more Japanese background. Her hair was gathered into a doubled up ponytail the ends sticking up above her crown in stiff spikes. She had desecrated her body by piercing her ear and her nose, gaudily adorned in hoops and studs, and most blasphemous was the dual chains that ran from the rings in her nose to the first two in her left ear. Her emerald green eyes held hatred, and Torri wondered inwardly what exactly had happened to her to sour her mind about Manticore. There had been reports that she had wanted to return to rejoin the group, and Lydecker had tried to kill her for it. Somewhere deep down, a small part of Torri sympathized with the young girl, but rules were rules, and Lydecker could not make exceptions, even for someone willing to return to the fold.

Torri's gaze finally settled onto Kito, and she drew a breath involuntarily at the sight of him. She could hardly recognize him, his face was swollen so badly that she could hardly see his dark eyes. His lip was bleeding steadily as was his arm. He was dusty and looked as if the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders. As she watched she could see that he was fighting to remain conscious. This was Blade's work she could tell, and the boy had worked Kito over pretty good.

"Kito," She thought suddenly a pang twisting her gut, "Where did we go wrong? Why did you have to leave us?" She shook her head not saying it and with the action erased the thought from her mind. It did not matter anyway, he was out of the fold and now was expendable. She resumed her position at the front of her unit and awaited further orders as she had been instructed.

Her gaze moved to the door wondering just what was going on inside the room where the X-5 was being held. That one of the infiltrating group was missing was clearly evident to her. That it was the man that she had questions about was also evident. That made her wonder all the more about the events taking place inside the soundproof walls.

Torri watched angrily as the group moved steadily away from the gate toward freedom, with their hostage in tow. She was shaking hard, livid that Lydecker had been captured, even more so that they were using him as a living "get out of jail free card". No one dared move against the group now, Lydecker's safety was of utmost concern. She looked around her watching the faces of the other soldiers around her seeing her own thoughts reflected on many of the faces. 

Several breaks in rank had happened as a result, some of the less disciplined had attempted to either free Lydecker directly or try to snipe his captors. Direct attempts failed miserable, the wanna-be hero finding himself outnumbered and thoroughly outmatched by the group. As far as the sniper scenario, there seemed to be some kind of preternatural sense in one of the group, because about the time that a shot was clear, Lydecker seemed to find himself in the line of fire and the shot had to be aborted. 

Torri found that she wanted to break rank herself, wanted to give her own shot at getting their leader freed, but alas she was both too smart to attempt it and too entrenched in her training to go against her orders, especially when it came from Lydecker himself. She found herself snapping at the attempts releasing her own frustration at the situation on her subordinates. 

Lydecker did not struggle as they became harder and harder to pick out moving down the road. She took another deep breath feeling angry and helpless all at the same time.

She turned to her troops, "Fall out report back to your posts, echo, foxtrot, zulu," She said smartly letting none of her frustration bleed into her voice. Her unit saluted her smartly and then most turned to leave. Several stood staring at the point where Lydecker and the renegades had gone, she stepped quickly up to the closest, "I said Fall out!"

The girls eyes were wide as she replied, "Y… Yes ma'am!" The others took the hint, not wanting to be subject to Torri's wrath and dispersed returning to business.

Torri sighed as she turned around and looked out at the road leading away from base, her jaw clenched tight. Slowly at first, but then with more urgency she followed after the renegades. She knew she wasn't going to catch up with them, not when they were now in their vehicle and headed away. She had faintly heard that, the van tearing up gravel on one of the side roads. Right now she was not sure just what she was going to do, only that she had to do something. It did not take her long to find the junction where the van had joined the main road. She paused a moment staring at the tire tracks feeling her anger rise again at the events she had witnessed.

She hadn't wanted to respond to the code thirty-two… they had won! They had the intruders pinned and Lydecker had been taking care of whoever the man was inside the room. The plan that their leader had formulated had been a smashing success. Yet Lydecker himself had ordered them to fall back to starting point. Then she had been forced to watch helplessly as they dragged her immediate superior out like a piece of garbage. 

Torri found herself standing there in the middle of the road muscles taught and jaw clenched vowing to herself that Kito was going to pay from bringing this upon them. He had forsaken his training, and now he had made her and every other Manticore on station into potential deserters in the eyes of Lydecker… in the eyes of the committee. She had been through that before, the phsyc analysis, days on end of observation by doctors and shrinks, looking for some possible sign of instability. She had hated it, every minute she was poked and prodded and questioned endlessly on scenarios, testing her loyalty. Never would they take her word that she was Manticore's now until such time as she was either killed or died naturally.

A sound cut through the haze of anger that had enveloped Torri, a groan, her head came up and darted down the side road that the Van had come from. She turned down the road stepping up her pace, sure that she was right. She stopped short as she came upon Lydecker, sitting in the middle of the road nursing his left arm. She started to smile but checked it and more slowly approached her boss. She tilted her head to one side saying, "Sir?"

His head came up sharply as his eyes met hers, then he sagged visibly, "Torri," he breathed as she kneeled down next to him, "What are you doing out here?" He asked sounding angry that she had disobeyed his orders at the same time he sounded relieved that she had.

Torri assisted him to his feet saying, "Orders sir? Shall we go after them?"

"No," He said sharply, "Leave it. The matter is done."

"Sir!" She replied incredulously.

He looked at her again looking weary, "For now, Torri, for now."


	3. Kenai's Search

Chapter Two: Kenai's Search

Kenai sat in a small street-side restaurant trying to choke down a meal of what the owner had said was Yakisoba, something that the portly woman had recommended he try. What the woman had brought to the table looked like a plate of worms such as they had been made to eat when they were going through survival training. It had brought back unpleasant memories, but he had paid for it and now sat staring at it trying to convince himself that it would be good. For the third time he brought a fork full of it up to his mouth.

He had been handed two thin pieces of wood with it originally, he had stared at the woman and she smiled politely seeming to read his lost look and handed him the fork instead. 

Taking a deep breath he plugged his nose and put the bite in. He chewed mechanically for the first thirty seconds or so, then his eyes widened as the taste finally seeped through. It was good. He was more eager to move through the next bites until looking down he discovered that the plate was empty. He smiled broadly at the lady as she returned to the counter to take his plate thanking her for the meal, tipping her, and then standing.

Kenai took another deep breath and sighing heavily he looked around at the desolate surroundings he now found himself in. The place was filthy, this whole stinking city was filthy. Trash lined the streets, most of the surrounding buildings were in some state of decay. The windows were boarded behind broken panes of glass. Most were barred from entrance in some way or another, some with iron bars some with chain link and barb wire, and almost all of it had been broken into at some point once the owners had given up on the thought of home security. Vehicles drove by covered in rust and sounding as if they were about to give up on trying to work. Propane tanks of all sizes were strapped to the roofs of most, those that could afford it still used gas-powered cars, there were not too many that could afford it though.

Kenai looked out at the people, they were in about as desperate a shape, with tattered clothes and vacant eyes, infirmities of all kinds. It all made Kenai glad that he would be back at Manticore sooner or later. Someplace clean and people free of medical problems. That was if… no, when he found Kito. He pulled a small device out of his inner jacket pocket and looked at it yet again. It was a tracer, tuned to Kito's implant. It was supposed to expedite the search for their wayward team member. Fat lot of good it was doing him. It hadn't so much as blipped the whole three months he had been in the city.

Either Lydecker's hunch was wrong, Kito hadn't come to Seattle, or Kito had found some way to disable it or remove his implant. Removal was probably out of the question the last person who had removed it had died from a brain hemorrhage. The devices were based on a technology that had originated with the South Africans, a property of a metal they had used that allowed for it to be tracked. It was an implant that they had created that had given Lydecker the idea, only theirs had been created for a completely different purpose.

"Little 'bro," he whispered, "When I find you you're in for a beat down for making me do this!"

Not really knowing which way he wanted to go he struck out into the street heading generally west toward the water. He kept his green eyes on the device, hoping that today would be the day that he would he would get a lead. He wore a ball-cap turned backwards and the effect was such that it hid his barcode from casual onlookers. The last thing he wanted was to give himself away to his quarry. It also hid his definitively military cut bright red hair. He was wearing a Jeans jacket over a simple button down shirt, and a pair of pants that was just slightly a darker shade than his jacket.

He moved steadily through the street ignoring those around him practically willing the device to go off. The urge to throw it to the ground and stomp the living crap out of it was becoming overwhelming. Instead he turned it off and stuffed it back into his inner jacket pocket and just as he returned his attention to the street he bumped heavily into someone. He stopped as the woman in front of him landed heavily on her butt with an indignant grunt. 

Quickly she glared up at him, "Watch where you're going!" She growled.

"Sorry ma'am, I was preoccupied," He said leaning over to lend her a hand to her feet. She was a slip of a thing with dark hair and dark brooding eyes. Her face was round and soft featured. She stood out in this neighborhood, she was wearing skintight pants, a shirt that was as tight and cut off about midriff. Over that she was wearing a black jacket and a set of gloves that were cut off at the second knuckle. Either she was a rich chick down here to but some cheap goods or she was passing through on a working assignment. He was having a hard time guessing which.

"That's no excuse," She barked back at him ignoring his proffered hand and pushing to her feet wiping futilely at the greasy mud she now had on her pants from her landing.

About that time a taller man of medium build came over. The man looked at Kenai and then back at the woman, "You OK?" The man asked of her. He was older than she was, by quite a bit, with peppered brown hair, a scruffy beard and mustache and blue eyes. His dress was also out of place, with slacks and a turtleneck sweater over which he was wearing a real leather jacket.

"Be better if I wasn't walking into moving walls," The girl said acidly, "Now I got mud on me… you know how much I hate mud," She grumbled looking at the man pointedly.

"I know," The man smiled at her, "You're alright, c'mon we gotta get going," He started to usher her away from Kenai then turned back, "Sorry about that."

"No problem," Kenai said evenly even managing a smile, "My fault."

The man nodded at Kenai and then turned away following the fiery female he was with. Kenai watched them go for some reason unable to take his eyes off the two of them. He followed them at a distance more than mildly curious and with no other immediate pressing concerns.

"Hold on a minute," Kenai heard the woman say, stopping as she came to a fruit stand. The man had taken a couple of steps beyond her and stopped looking back with a sigh, he then turned back and rejoined the dark haired woman.

"Apples!" she said in excitement.

The man scrutinized the fruits and then the prices, "That is way too expensive, even for these troubled times," The man replied beginning to walk on. 

The girl sighed in frustration and then moved to join him, "Do you realize how long it's been since I had one of those?" she protested, "I mean… a long time."

"I know how long it's been," He answered her, "But we can get them for less elsewhere," The man reasoned with her. Leaning in he kissed her neck.

Kenai watched a moment more already losing interest in the two of them. Norm's were boring and frivolous entities moving through the world setting their sights only a little above their grasp and no higher. He would be more than happy when he was done with this assignment and could go back to his barracks room and his brothers and sisters.

He watched with glazing eyes as the woman leaned over to smell a bouquet of flowers. Kenai's breath caught in his throat as the woman's hair slipped off of her shoulder exposing her thin neck. His eyes immediately zoomed in bringing into sharp focus what he couldn't believe he was seeing. Her barcode stood out like a beacon on her neck. He only could read a portion of her barcode, only enough to know that she was an X-5. That was a given though, the only successful escapes had been made by 12 of the X-5's and only a very few after that, she was much too old to be any one of the more recent escapes. Kenai quickly scanned her face setting her details to memory, then his eyes darted to the man he had hardly taken notice of just a few moments prior, scanning his neck as well looking for a barcode on him as well. There was none and Kenai scowled. What would a Transgenic like that find attractive about a Norm?

"Wait a second!" Kenai whispered to himself. He recognized the man… and there was only one place that it could have been from.

FLASHBACK:

"Reinduction doesn't work, Tima. No matter how much you want to come back, you can't. You're too tainted by the world to be of any use to Me,"

Lydecker stood with his gun at the ready, ready to follow the orders he had himself given. That was when the man had jumped into the fray, knocking Lydecker's gun from his hand and mulekicking him before he scooped Tima up and leapt, just like a Transgenic for the roof.

Kenai and three of the others had followed the two of them as they had attempted to make their escape. He had gotten a pretty good look at the guy as the four of them had faced off just outside the perimeter fence. Somehow the two of them, Tima, who had been gone for 11 years and an unknown man with their style of abilities had been able to get the upper hand on Kenai and Tempest that night. It had been humiliating.

PRESENT:

It was definitely the same man, and curiosity pricked at him to find out just what the origin of his abilities was. But another dilemma drew his mind from that train of thought.

He struggled inwardly a moment, two directives warring inside him. One was the order to terminate any Transgenics outside the program, and the other was his specific instruction to track Kito down. He wished silently that he could call in and report on this unexpected development. Unfortunately he was also under deep cover assignment which meant that he could make no contact with base, except in person and after the assignment he was sent to do was complete. He decided that he would go ahead with the immediate objective, while she was here. He looked up again finding that the two of them were gone.

"Damn it!" Kenai muttered


	4. Too Close To Call

Chapter Three: Too Close to Call

Logan and Max were still shaken about the run in several hours later sharing their dinner in tense silence. That had been a situation that was too close to call. The man had to have been Manticore, there was no way around it, and he had Max within arms reach of him. Logan swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat, at the thought of how close he had come to losing her again. If the man had known… somehow he hadn't recognized Max on sight, only after he had seen her barcode, and luckily they had the distance between them when that had happened. Max glanced up at him a moment before returning silently to her meal. His mouth thinned she was probably wondering what he was thinking. The incident was playing over and over in his head. 

Flashback:

Logan looked back at Max as she paused again at the flower booth, unsure whether he was humored or annoyed at her constant stops to check out the booths. It seemed they would stop at every other one. Now he remembered why he had always loathed shopping with a woman. His Ex had been the same way, so many years ago now. Anything and everything caught her attention, a trip for food would turn into a four hour ordeal through every knick knack shop she would come to. 

He smiled to himself, happy to be able to have that thought, yet again he was reminded just how much he had missed Max in his life. She drove him crazy sometimes no doubt, but it was all worth it in the long run. All the pain that he had been through after her disappearance and all the tough times that they had gotten over since she had come back to him were all worth it.

Logan looked up and back down the alley where the market was placed as a familiar pang went off in his stomach. His smile faded as his eyes more earnestly searched the crowd for the source of that heightened sense of trouble. His restless gaze stopped as he made eye contact with the tall man that had nearly run Max over. He was staring directly at Max looking somehow as if he recognized her, and call it coincidence but the man was following the exact same path that they were. 

Logan's sense leapt again, assuring him that he had found the source of his own unease. Logan looked back at Max drawing in a frightened breath as he saw that her barcode was showing from under her long hair. Logan looked back up again to find the man looking directly at him now. There was a measuring gaze there, a sign of familiarity, Logan's breath came faster as the feeling in him began to intensify. This man was going to be trouble if he and Max stuck around. Logan, not wanting a confrontation of any sort out here, leaned over touching Max on the shoulder.

"Max we gotta move," Logan said to her in a low tone.

"Why?" She looked up at him and the contented look on her face slid off as she saw the fear in his, "You're having one of your premonitions again aren't you?" She whispered.

"You know that man you had an abrupt meeting with earlier," Logan said.

"Yeah, behemoth," She grumbled.

"Well let's just say is not going to be our closest friend," He replied, "He seems to know about one or both of us."

"Crap," Max said, "When are we ever going to catch a break?"

Logan looked back at the tall man again as he hurried Max down Market Street. Once in a clear alley they both put on a burst of speed to put as much distance between them and the tall man as possible. They zig-zagged through the alleys in an effort to confuse their trail before backtracking to the Aztec.

They did the same as they drove home, not taking the most direct route, wasting precious gas as they did, to ensure that their pursuit was lost.

"Who was that guy?" Max asked suddenly breaking the silence that they had been traveling in.

Logan shook his head from behind the wheel, "I don't know. I can't say I recall ever seeing him before."

"Well he sure seemed to have seen us before."

"Or one of us," Logan added, "He saw your bar code, Max."

"Yeah, well it could have been someone from any of your trips into Manticore too, Logan." She said testily.

"Could be," He agreed thoughtfully, diffusing her mounting anger, "When I rescued Tima maybe? They were all in riot gear, didn't get a look at any of their faces. But how much could they have seen? I mean it was dark, I was inn and out that quick." He said snapping his fingers still intent on the road.

"More than you think," Max said sternly, "And you know it."

Logan's face flattened out his mood grim and he nodded solemnly. He knew all too well what a Manticore could see in the dark and how clear details were to Manticore eyes even when it was a blur to everyone else. They were abilities he himself was capable of since Max's blood, the DNA in it, had rewritten his cellular programming to more resemble hers. That pang went through him again, Lydecker knew… He knew exactly what Logan was capable of, with the exception of maybe the radar/ danger sense. The possibility then existed that the man had been sent specifically to track Logan down. He voiced the thought, "Do you think that he was after us? Do you think Lydecker sent him to…"

"To find you?" Max finished the thought eerily, "I'm not sure but I want to say no," Max replied.

Present:

Logan wanted to believe Max, that the man hadn't been after him, or her, he wanted to believe that they could start living their lives again like any other normal person. But neither of them were normal, they never would be again. The possibility of persecution was high for them and Logan did not delude himself by thinking that Lydecker would just give up. He smiled sardonically, he was supposed to be the optimist of the two of them. But the last six or seven years had been extremely hard on him, tarnishing his outlook on the world.

Then there was that feeling, a feeling he seemed to have always possessed now, even though it had only been four years, a low constant feeling of anxiety. He shivered involuntarily, there was something big coming down the line, the danger was there, looking for them. But when would it happen? His Danger Sense wasn't urgent, it wasn't immediate, that bothered him because there was no planning for something that would happen in the future. There were times that he hated this ability… times when it near drove him crazy trying to figure out when something would take place. It was invaluable for near future immediate danger situations, it gave him a instant edge over his competition. But on occasion, it would happen the way it was happening now, a vague sense of danger for the future. What exactly was never clear to him, he could only wait for the feeling to intensify, to tell him when the danger was imminent.

It reminded him of a story about a man who could see the future for people, but the only future he could predict for himself was his own death. Now did he go to it willingly, knowing it was coming or try to fight the vision? And which action would lead to the outcome he had predicted? 

"You OK?" Max's words cut through the cloud of doom that had started to form in Logan's mind.

"I don't know," He admitted, done being the one who kept everything in. He tried to keep most of his "feelings" to himself, Max was very uncomfortable with his ability to predict danger, even more so that he could track her movements without ever seeing her. He had begun to refrain from acknowledging her until she spoke to him just because she had begun to look at him like a freak, unintentionally, when he did.

"He wasn't after us," Max insisted again not even sounding as if she convinced herself.

Logan just looked back at his food and nodded, picking through what was left of his dinner (which was most of it) with a fork. He didn't look up as Max got out of her chair and moved closer to him. He felt gentle fingers run through his unruly hair as she leaned into him her hip touching his shoulder, "Hey," Logan finally looked up into her eyes. Max caressed the back of Logan's neck, "This has really gotten you shaken up, doesn't it?" She said sounding genuinely concerned.

"Yes," Logan said looking down again, "Something bad is on the horizon."

She almost did it again, she almost rolled her eyes and looked at him with that look. Somehow she kept it in check this time, probably because of the accuracy of his last assessment, "Do you have any idea what?"

"Of course not," He snapped, then he quieted again, "I only know its coming."

"Well Damn that really does a lot of good Logan!" Max said losing her patience, "I am not going to spend the next God knows how many months worrying about a 'feeling'. Damn you and that ability!"

Logan rose quickly from his seat and quicker yet to the bait, already tied in knots inside by this whole situation, "Damn you for giving it to me!" Logan snapped, striding a few steps away. He then whirled to face her again, "Sometimes I wish I was back in that damned chair… that your blood had never changed me," his face pinched hard as he finished with, "There are even times I wish you had let me die in the hospital."

Max sank down to the arm of the chair staring at him with a hurt look, "You don't mean that!" She whispered.

"Life would certainly be easier," Logan said emphasizing with a shake of his head, "I never asked for any of this. I would have been happy to be the normal guy married to the supercharged chick. Instead I became a something more like you, Revved up, able to do what any Manticore can… and evidently by some twist of fate, a few things more. I never asked to be able to predict disaster, Max, most of the time I wish I could ignore it. But I can't and every time… every time I try to let you in on that, expecting support, you treat me like a 'Nomaly." He said pointedly knowing how much she had hated that term and the memories it invoked, "I am your husband, not some freak of nature. I understood the mountains that you had to climb. Your thrice a year 'heat', your seizures, your four year absence, the pain they inflicted on you… I hated some of it, but I understood it and supported you the best way I knew how. Why can't you understand or at the very least accept mine?"

Max's jaw was hanging slack for long moments just staring at him. When she finally looked away her face flushed red and one hand came up to cover her mouth, "I'm sorry," she said muffled to near nonexistence.

Logan resisted the urge to break down on his hard line stance, his jaw set in a hard line. Instead he turned away letting her have some time to think about her actions. It also served to give himself some space before that aggression in him got out of control. There had rose up a certain unbidden and unwanted urge to reach across the table hit her during that exchange. That would be the last thing he needed right now. He went in to the living room and sank onto the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and covering his eyes with his hands, as he wondered again if they were going to make it.


	5. Hot on the Trail

Chapter Four: Hot on the Trail

Kito straightened a moment, pausing in his work and wiping his brow. He looked about him slowly, this was definitely not something that he had seen himself ever doing. "How the mighty have fallen," rang through his head. Here he was a seasoned combatant, a leader in charge of forty to a hundred troops at a time, trained his whole life for war. Now he found himself reduced to construction work for a bunch of Norms. Sighing heavily he took of the leather gloves that protected his hands from the wood he was stacking. His strength and stamina were definitely a bonus on this job but rewarding to him it was not in any sense of the matter.

The others around him continued on with their work preparing the site for the new building that was going up here, oblivious to his own pause in work. This was drudgery worse than any perimeter patrol, any stake out that he had ever been assigned. He again regretted his decision to leave his life in Manticore. He would definitely trade it in a heartbeat for what he was reduced to. He did not regret freeing Max nor returning her to her husband, but the consequences of his own actions had left him in a position he was not nearly ready to be in. 

He thought about Tima a moment and how well adjusted she seemed to be. But her story was far different than his was, she had only spent five years in training loosed on the world at age five. She was accustomed to the life on this side of the wires. He was now seventeen, and spent all but the last three and a half months sequestered into the life that was Manticore. He had lived, breathed, sweat and bled for Manticore it was in every fiber of his being. This world was vastly different, even if he had been in it before. Those trips were always with the knowledge that he would be able to get back to his perfectly ordered little world. He no longer had that safety net.

He found himself dealing with fits of depression that he knew was attributable to culture shock. There were days he literally could not function in this society, and he was in serious hot water with his boss for burning so many sick days so early in the job. 

Kito's eye moved the man's direction as he scoffed under his breath. He was a thick man, and Kito didn't mean in a muscular way. He was named Murray and he was fat and pasty with dark sweat stains under each armpit and spiking down the middle of his shirt. He smoked big nasty burning weeds called cigars until they were mere nubs in his mouth, then he would proceed to chew the stump until it was soggy and falling apart in his darkly stained teeth. Kito could easily outwit him not to mention physically outmaneuver him. But he was trying to lay low and stay out of Manticore's radar, therefore his physical prowess had to be toned down considerably to keep from exposing himself.

Kito grimaced as he put his gloves back on and picked up another stack of six 2X4X12's and moved it to the general area it was needed. He was about to set it down when a feeling like a low voltage shock started just behind his left ear. Without knowing he had done it he dropped the stack loudly, drawing attention from the others on the site with him. His hand immediately went for the site of the distinctly uncomfortable feeling, rubbing it hard as if that would make the feeling dissipate.

Every muscle taut he looked quickly around him looking for someone he knew, looking to see the tracking device they were trying to use to locate his presence. He'd felt that a few times now, each time it had caused him to flee when the signal strummed over his still in place implant. But for some reason it they had seemed unable to find him and for the life of him he couldn't figure out why. There was nothing that he could recall happening that might have shorted it out or damaged it in some way. But the fact remained that it was inop, and that was every function the device was capable of, from two-way to tracking… Lucky for him. Otherwise he would definitely be dead now.

Slowly the pain faded away leaving him standing and shaking in the middle of the site all hands staring at his frozen form. Murray waddled his way over to Kito looking at him with general concern. Somewhere deep down that surprised Kito.

"Buddy I think you need to go lay down," He said in a deep raspy voice.

Kito's gaze moved sharply to the pudgy face a full head and a half below him, "What?" He whispered still keenly listening for that electric vibration that told him they were still searching, but the feeling was gone.

"You're a little pale, you been drinkin' water?"

"I'm fine," Kito insisted weakly.

"That's not a request, son that's an order," The pudgy man said sternly, "Go home and get some rest before you fall over!"

Kito's mouth thinned but he nodded gathered up his few possessions and turned away feeling shaken and weak. Murray was right, for once, he didn't feel so good. It was like the implant was short-circuited sending electricity into his system rather than functioning in the capacity it was created to. Slowly he made his way back to Tima's place.

Kenai walked along the street slowly following up on a lead that he thought might pan out. One thing he was sure of was that the people on the outside were a greedy lot and were easily persuaded to give over just about anything for the right amount of money.

The woman he had contacted had given him information on a man matching Kito's description applying for a job at a newly started construction site in the area and he was now headed that direction. Kenai pulled the tracking device out again turning it on and allowing time enough for it to accomplish a couple of sweeps.

"Nothing," Kenai grumbled looking at the negative results that were spat up onto the screen.

He heard the site well before he saw his objective, there was the sound of heavy machinery, hammers pounding nails, and saws chewing through wood. As he got there he stepped confidently through the gate looking over the motley crew of men and women constructing the framework for what would be a two-story mansion for some rich out of towners.

He frowned when he did not see Kito among those present. Sighing Kenai moved up to the closest of the workers stopping the diminutive woman as he asked, "Have you seen this man?" He asked in a shout over the din around him as he handed the woman a picture.

She looked Kenai in the face with a hard expression, "Yeah the foreman just sent him home," She shrugged not looking at him anymore as she continued, "He had some sort of seizure, just stood there in the middle of the yard board stiff and shaking. I don't know what came over him. What's your interest…" she looked back to the spot to find that he was not there anymore. She looked around a moment then shrugged turning back to her own work.

Kenai rummaged through the papers on the desk in the office sorting through the employee information that was haphazardly stacked there. His heart leapt as he found a file with Kito's picture blatantly in it. He was listed under an alias, as would be expected, he quickly memorized the number where he was reported to be living, hoping that he had not given over a false address. Most likely not, it would be the only way that he could get his paycheck. Kenai smiled tightly as he straightened.

"What are you doing in here?" A rough voice said from behind him.

Kenai didn't even blink he whirled on the man backhanding him hard. The man hit the opposite wall causing the whole trailer to shake with his impact. The now unconscious man slid down the wall and Kenai made a break for it, looking to casual observers like a dark streak across the dun colored dirt lot.

Kenai looked through the window of the apartment that was purported to be where Kito was staying. There was going to be no slip ups on this assignment, Kenai was not going to move in on the place until he was sure that Kito was there. So far he had seen no sign of him.

Kenai sat back against the rough brick face backing the balcony he was perched on, pulling out a ration bar and chewing on it methodically. He wondered how much longer it would be before he was able to get confirmation on his information.

It didn't take long, as he noticed motion inside the apartment in question. His heart beat faster as he got a good look at Kito passing by the window. Slowly Kenai stood his eyes narrowing and refocusing at the same time. He smiled tightly as he began to move off his perch. He stopped short as another person crossed the window. His breath caught in his throat as he recognized the woman, it was Tima!

"Two for the price of one," He whispered, "This is even better."

Again he started to move away toward the route that he had pre-planned to get to the rogue Transgenic. And again he froze as yet another familiar face passed by the narrow view of the window. The X-5 from the market! They all were in contact with each other? And if that were true where was the exceptional man that he had seen with her at the street market? This time he waited, curious to see if the man was with her. He watched as they all sat at a table near the window discussing something.

He looked away again as a thought occurred to him. He had to relay this information back to base, back to Torri. He was ill prepared to take on three Transgenics, besides they would want to know about the man, that he was here in Seattle and knew Kito and Tima.

It was time to return. They would not be happy that he had not completed his objective, but he would more than make up for it with the information he did have. And he would definitely need backup.


	6. Trial and Error

Chapter Five: Trial and Error

Logan sat on a chair on his balcony leaned back with his feet on the rail as he watched the sun setting beyond the Seattle Skyline. It was a beautiful sight, the overshadowed building in the foreground contrasting sharply with the brightly colored sky. The colors were spectacular ranging from a deep burnt orange to gold to red and finally fading into a light purple as the stars began to intrude on the daytime. Wispy clouds moved languidly across the expanse of sky over the towering buildings catching and reflecting the splendor of the sunset, turning their faces pink with brilliant gold highlights, almost as if the angels were peering over their edges and looking down on him. 

He blinked as he stared blankly at them, "Looking down and laughing," Logan thought angrily.

He couldn't appreciate it, he hardly saw it, as his thoughts went round and round in his head about the most recent events in his tumultuous love life. Logan again wiped a stray tear from his cheek as the pain hit him full force yet again. His eyes were red and slightly swollen, and the depression he had thought he had overcome since Max had returned was weighing him down again. His arms were crossed self protectively across his chest, as much to comfort him as to keep him warm. He vaguely felt himself shiver again as an icy wind cut through his clothes. 

He looked up at the sky again blinking back another round of tears as he again recalled the events that had unfolded after their argument.

Four days prior:

Logan walked toward the bedroom several hours after their most recent fight. His newly developed abilities and Max's reaction to them had definitely doused a bit of the flame that had been rekindled after her return to his life. He remembered walking out avoiding his own angry feelings and giving Max what time she needed to think and work out her own anger about what had been said in the heat of the moment. She had retired to the bedroom sometime after he had walked out and he had not seen anything of her in nearly two hours. He had gravitated to the training room intent on working off some of his pent up frustration, working the aggression out as he did. When he had finished he found that he could think rationally again. That only served to bring on a bout of guilt for the words that he had lashed Max with. He grimaced inwardly looking toward the door leading out to the hallway. Max was not one to forgive easily and he was sure that was the leading factor in the fact that he had not seen her emerge yet.

When he had finished and found that she still had not emerged, he had decided to press the issue. Slowly he moved toward the back of the apartment his gut twisted with anxiety, there was going to be no easy apology. 

A thought occurred to him then falsely buoying his attitude with hope. There were times when she and he would get into a fight, and being a person not prone to apology Max tended to "surprise" him. Those surprises usually consisted of Logan walking into a room to find Max nearly or completely naked. As her way of apologizing she would make passionate love to him wherever they happened to be at the time. He had always liked _those_ kinds of surprises.

He smiled at the prospect of it, almost eager to see what she had actually been doing so long in the bedroom. Logan stopped short as he opened the bedroom door and stepped in, his expectant grin slid off his face at the sight that greeted his eyes. And while he was surprised it was not pleasantly so. 

Arranged along the bed were several suitcases most of which were haphazardly stuffed with Max's clothes. He found Max angrily rooting through drawers putting her garments aside and throwing his clothes on the floor.

"Max?" He questioned dumfounded by her actions. He didn't think that the rift between them had grown that wide. She whirled to face him her expression dark and angry still. She looked just slightly guilty about being caught in the act of trying to escape, "What are… what are you doing?"

"I… I have to get out of here," She stammered, "I can't take this anymore."

"But," Logan closed the short space between them, running shaking hands up her arms to her shoulders trying to get her to look into his eyes. She avoided that contact with his startling vivid and expressive eyes, "Why?" he asked softly.

Her eyes were suddenly on him, stabbing through him as she accused "You would rather have died?" she voiced still snagged on his bitter accounting of what he felt his life had been worth. "I risked my life and my freedom to come and save you that day. I ended up in a jail cell with thirty versions of me standing around…" She frowned, her gaze became unfocused, "That was the creepiest thing," Her eyes were suddenly on him again, "Now you're telling me you would rather have died than become what you are? Do you have any idea how selfish that is? Do you realize how meaningless that makes my effort?"

Logan threw back his head a bit blowing through his nose, and rolled his eyes then he looked back down at her again, his remorse for his words plain to read on his face. He knew that nothing he could say now would be right, and at the time he had thought he had meant it. Logan knew hurtful things said were hard to take back, "I… it was wrong. I was angry, Max, because… because I am already uncomfortable with these… abilities. To see you look at me, like… like you don't know me, like you are afraid of what I have become… It hurts. I overreacted… I'm sorry," Logan said finally locking her eyes. "Please… don't go." 

"I can't stay," Max repeated, "This hurts too much."

"We've had these hiccups before," Logan insisted, "We both knew that it wasn't going to be the easiest thing after four years, just to pick up where we left off. We can work this out I know we can." Logan finished earnestly.

She was shaking her head even before he finished, her unfocused gaze still faced away from him, "I'm not so sure anymore," She whispered. She looked for a moment like she was about to relent, about to give in and apologize. Logan saw that look glaze over as her defenses came up again spurning her to keep herself from getting hurt, to keep her from being vulnerable. She shook her head as if to clear it of a fog, backed a step away from him, and turned around slamming the last of the suitcases closed before turning back to him one hand still on the handle, "I think it would be best if I took a breather."

Logan closed his eyes against the pain as she stepped around him headed for the bedroom door, "Where will you be staying?" Logan said giving up on the notion that he could convince her to stay.

He heard rather than saw her pause in the doorway to the bedroom, "I don't know," she said very quietly then turned away. Logan didn't turn to watch her go, he didn't want to… didn't need to. He could see her aura behind his eyes, the brilliant glow moving further away from him. He tried to make himself move to go after her to stop her departure by whatever means necessary, only he couldn't, he was frozen in place, knowing that trying to stop her would only make it worse for both of them. Something deep inside of him squeezed tighter as he realized that he was losing her, and not by force, not by some outside power… he had driven her away with his own selfishness and stubbornness. His head drooped to rest on his chest as he heard the door to their apartment shut quietly.

Present:

It had been four days now, and Max had not so much as called to let him know that she was doing all right.

"You're a damn fool," Logan thought bitterly, chastising himself for ever having let that thought issue from his mouth. His discomfort with these abilities… That was his own shortcoming and the idea that he would have been better off dead should have stayed safely locked up between his ears. And now there was no way to take the words back, and no way to convince her that he meant other than what he said. She was gone, perhaps for good and this time it was squarely his own fault.

Logan pulled his heel back from where it was propped on the railing letting it fall with a thud onto the deck, propelling his body forward as the chair resumed it normal upright position. Logan put his hands on either arm of the chair and slowly pushed himself to his feet. Even as he did he realized, yet again, that even that taken for granted event was a miracle, by all rights he should still be in that damned wheelchair. He should be rolling through life with a shattered spine and shredded nerves. 

Max… He drew a deep breath and sighed yet again. She had, by her very selfless act… risking incarceration and return to Manticore, had given him a second chance, to walk again, to live as a whole person. He should have been kissing the ground that she walked on, but instead of showing her gratitude, he had spit on her heroic effort, stabbing her through the heart with his self pity about the current state of his own messed up body. How could she have known the possible repercussions of her act to save his life? He certainly had entertained no notions of extrasensory powers or greater than human strength. 

Logan had been happy at the time, ecstatic even, when the first inkling of sensation had come back into his legs, he had felt proud and whole when he was able to stand on his own in front of Max that day. He suffered through a heavy depression when the new cells had started to fail, unwilling to go back to being in the chair full time after such a taste of what he had lost. He had nearly ended it all then. 

He was glad, more than glad that he had been convinced of the short sightedness of that thought. Shortly thereafter, the treatments he had received from the good doctor, before her untimely death finally began to take effect. The recovery was swift after that, and it took permanently.

Logan found himself standing in front of the sculpture that dominated his office, unsure how exactly he had arrived here. He slowly focused on the wheel chair tilted up onto one large wheel, lengths of ivy draped on it to create a look of disuse. The effect had been completed recently. The device transformed from the electric blue that it had been to a look of rust and disuse by a carefully rendered paint scheme. That had been the final step of its creation signifying Max's return to the house and to commemorate what he had thought to be the end of his healing process. It was still a reminder though, both of what he had been through and the cruel twists of fate that life tended to deal mere mortals. Shakily he reached out a hand to touch its cold surface, "How cruel you are to me today," he thought bitterly as his fingers curled around the frame of the device. 

He sniffed at the irony of it, realizing his whole purpose in getting back on his feet had not been for himself… it never had been, it had all been for Max. She had become something more than a partner in his mind early on, and every stride he had made toward recovery was because he had fallen in love with her.

Logan's fingers laid lightly against his own thigh as he stood there, and he found that he was suddenly conscious of every twitch, every contraction of muscle in that leg. He was unnervingly aware of the fact that circumstances should have been very different. 

Logan reached out with his other hand touching the chair with it as well. A feeling like shock hit him as the memories surfaced again of the period in his life that was ruled by these wheels. A time that was ruled by depression, the feelings of helplessness that he had always felt when Max went out to do the dangerous works that he had asked of her, unable to accomplish them on his own. He remembered all of the triumph and sorrows that were carved sharply into his memory from that time. A time when he was actually forced to grow up and face the realities of the world around him. He was no longer the guardian angel separated by money from those he deemed worthy of his help. He found that he had been so pompous in his dealings, even when he had viewed them as good works. Max had been right all along that he had been the spoiled rich kid she had dubbed him on their first meeting. But as always the universe had ways of leveling the playing field. 

Slowly Logan released his hold of the sculpture sitting across from it and regarding it as some nemesis that he had to figure out a way to beat. Hit thoughts turned inward again wondering what in the world he was going to do now. 

He jumped nearly out of his skin when a hand lay lightly onto his shoulder. His radar had not warned him that anyone had been in the apartment much less the room and that was scary in and of itself. In four years no one had been able to get close to him without him knowing about it. Startled he looked up finding Max standing arms length away from him. Logan swallowed hard as he stared up at her unable to believe what he was seeing, frozen in place and daring not to move lest her presence prove to be nothing but his own imagination playing tricks on him. Her eyes were watery and her face sad as she looked down on him. 

"I thought I might find you in here," She stated in a cracking voice. She looked away a moment then back at him, "I… couldn't do it," she admitted, "I couldn't stay away."

Slowly Logan stood before her his face clouded with sorrow and pain and relief. He reached out with one hand lightly touching her face as if to prove the reality of her presence to himself. He ran in gently up her cheek and into her dark wavy hair. Without a word he leaned down kissing her, letting the kiss say the words that no voice could manage. Slowly her arms wrapped around him, giving him the answer to his unspoken but heartfelt apology, as she responded by kissing him back with fierce passion.

After long moments Logan moved away, still stroking her face and looking deeply into her dark almond eyes, "Forgive me," He whispered.

She swallowed licking her lips. Unable to speak she only nodded and leaned in to kiss him yet again more deeply and more passionately than the last.


	7. Kenai's Return

Chapter Six: Kenai's Return

Torri sighed heavily reading over the day's reports, her thoughts wandering yet again from the facts in print in her hands.  Things had finally returned to normal nearly five months after Kito's return and subsequent springing of X-5-452.  She had thought things had been chaos after Kito had disappeared the first time with the rash of attempted defections by the young and strong willed in the younger classes.  Things were worse, much worse, this time, because Kito's successful infiltration and escape with a prisoner had undermined the whole structure of authority that had been established here.  Before the two incidents her subordinates were unquestioning in their loyalty and expeditious in the execution of their orders.  Following it insubordination was rampant, and not just in the lower ranks of their strict little society.  Not even her Company Commanders were immune from its influence.  So far she had been forced to discipline Tempest and Monica for speaking out of turn and expressing unasked for opinions.  The numbers went up exponentially as the rank lowered; all in all there had been nearly forty-five cases of insubordination, unauthorized absence, and various other breaches of their code of conduct.  The measures to which they had been forced to go to squash the sudden trend was getting steadily more harsh.  No longer was verbal or written counseling working, nor were extra assignments.  They had to resort to physical discipline and Torri didn't like that in the least.  

Discipline was a good thing done in the right way it was effective not only for the subject but for the witnesses to the event. What they were bordering on now was totalitarianism at its worst.  Luckily they were starting to see a glimmer of reversal in the trend and that heartened Torri, hoping that they could turn it back before that thin line was crossed into brutality.

Torri sighed again, feeling peevish about the whole chain of events.  She had not forgotten her promise to herself, Kito would pay for this, but her opportunity to act had yet to present itself.  The longer she was made to wait the more frustrated she became.  She found that her concentration was effected, as was her patience.  But Lydecker said that the matter was done for now, and no matter her personal feelings about it she would not countermand those orders for a personal vendetta. 

Torri's lips thinned, she set her report down and stood, knowing deep down that she was in no mood to review and approve another requisition.  She moved to the window watching at a stiff parade rest as some of the junior Manticores were put through their morning calisthenics before moving off to their separate courses of training.  A faint smile crossed her lips as they performed their routine effortlessly in total sync with one another like pieces to a well-oiled fighting machine. Just the way it should be, and hopefully that would be the way that it would stay.  This was her slice of heaven and she felt proud of her integral part in that machine.  Her eyes wandered across the yard to the outbuildings and the soldiers and civilians that made up this facility.  Each individual cell of the organization had returned to harmony.  She wondered how long that would last.

Reluctantly she turned away from the window glaring wickedly at the desk she had just been sitting behind.  Sometimes she missed just being a grunt, having to worry about no responsibility except the prompt execution of the orders appointed over her.  She missed the constant drilling, the teamwork instilled so deeply in her that not being with her classmates was like a big gaping hole in her personality.  But as it was the way, things had to change.  She had excelled among her classmates, and she had been given her first command by the time she was fifteen.  And as was also the way of leadership she was required to maintain a requisite distance from her former peers, for the good of the command. With it came greater responsibility, less actual fighting and more and more paperwork.  She had matured beyond her years, and sometimes she wondered what it would have been like had she taken a different road.  The one like Kiara had taken… she had been given over to a special unit a closely-knit team of five individuals.  It was surely some kind of Special Forces unit, somewhere where each individual relied on those in her team not only for the job but to stay alive.  It was all conjecture on Torri's part, Kiara had never been able to say just what it was that she was involved in, it was so secretly classified that Torri would have been killed if she had even heard a whisper of it.

She missed her sister in arms, of any of the soldiers she had worked with over her twenty-two years, Kiara had been her closest confidant.  Torri's eyes lost focus as she wondered just Kiara was doing now.  She smiled a small smile as she remembered Kiara.  She had been an Anglo descent, pale white skin with heavy freckles over her thin nose, her closely set eyes had been bright green, and Torri had always thought she should have been a red head, not the almost white blond she actually was.  Lord knew Kiara had an "Irish" temper.  She had been taller than Torri by a head or better, thin, and very feminine in her appearance.  The look was deceiving, Kiara was a worthy opponent in any fight, using her height and her thin agility to excellent advantage over the boys brimming with muscles who thought that strength was everything.

A sharp knock on the door dragged her mind unwillingly from her reverie, and slowly she turned her eyes to the door, wondering who it could be.  She moved quickly back to her desk seating herself again as she said, "Come!" in a loud voice.

The door was flung open slamming loudly into the stop and Torri rose staring wide-eyed as the visitor entered the room.  She was at once happy and angry to see him, "Kenai?" She said incredulously, "What are you doing here?"

He should still have been on assignment.  He had sent no signal to signify that he had been successful in his search for Kito.  And she knew that they had sent no recall signal to bring him back to base, so just what was he doing back at camp?

Without prompting he strode into the room and seated himself opposite her, scooting to the edge of the seat and leaning forward, "I had to come back, the situation has changed.  I need clarification of the precedence of my orders."

Her brows furrowed, "Precedence of orders?" She said slowly, "You're orders were simple Kenai, you were to track Kito to ground and then dispatch him.  Wherein is the confusion?"

"Yes," Kenai said, "I have new information that affects my directive."

"You were not cleared to return, X-10-121!" She barked, angry about yet another breach of protocol.

Kenai popped up out of the chair hearing the edge in her voice spurring him to remember his training, "X-10-121 reporting contact with subject of my search, X-10-352."

"And," Torri replied testily, "Why would that cause you to breach protocol and return here without the successful completion of your assigned mission?"

"Ma'am," He started with the proper tone of respect, "While tracking the subject it came to my attention that he was and is in contact with X-10-321," Torri's eyebrow raised at that bit of news, as Kenai went on, "AND X-5-452."

Torri slowly seated herself upon hearing that news her mind going into overdrive about what it might mean.  She had assumed, as had Lydecker that once they had gotten away from the city that the group would disperse, going separate directions to lose their trail.  That would have been the smart thing for them to do, it would lessen their chances of being recaptured.  But they hadn't, they were all together in the city.  And if X-5-452 was in the city, where was her counterpart?  The mystery man was still a snag on which her mind stuck.  She had run circles in her mind about whom that man had been and where he had gotten the abilities that so much resembled Manticore abilities.

As if reading her thoughts Kenai added, "There was a man at the market with the X-5, a man that I recognize as the same man who helped Tima escape just after her return, and subsequent… rejection," he said carefully, "The man has abilities not unlike our own."

"I know," Torri said softly, "While you were away he was seen with Kito and Tima and another X-5.  They infiltrated the building and made off with the X-5 you saw at the market."

"He… he did?" Kenai stammered.

She nodded, and proceeded to fill Kenai in on the events that transpired while he was out in the world on assignment.  When she had come to the end of her story she debriefed Kenai on what his accomplishment had been on his mission.  When he had finished Torri asked, "Where you able to track the X-5 back to her residence?"

"On that count I was unsuccessful," Kenai replied, "She only appeared one time, she stayed for a few days and then left. I was unable to track her, it seems that she is used to the thought of a tail and muddled her trail well enough that I could not follow.  The other two, Kito and Tima seem to be sharing the residence that I tracked Kito back to.  I tailed both of them on several occasions, but neither of them went to X-5-452's residence.  Tima has a job doing grunt work at a local factory there, and Kito is employed a construction site on the edge of the downtown area."

Torri's eyes lost focus as she said, "We have to take this to Lydecker… he will want to know."

Torri moved swiftly down the familiar length of corridor leading to Lydecker's office, Kenai only a pace or two behind her.  She stopped at his door going through the routine of announcing her presence with increased urgency.  She knew Lydecker would be interested, considering his expressed interest in not the X-5, she was worthless to him now. From what he had confided in her the woman had been an utter failure in every sense of the word. He was more interested in the man that had been with her.  Lydecker had mentioned that his name was Logan Cale.

She remembered vividly the conversation concerning the man, listening intently as Lydecker spoke of his recollection of the man being crippled by a bullet that had shattered his spine.  How he had been a paraplegic from the incident, to become not only independently mobile some ten years later, but showing the same abilities that any of the Manticore classes showed.  He wanted to know why… what had exactly happened to make him what he was?  He had surmised that the X-5 had given him a blood transfusion, and that act had regenerated his burned out nerve endings and repaired his spinal column.  That was easily explained, the pluropotins in Manticore blood, meant to help heal a soldier quickly, had differentiated into the needed cells and made him whole again.  What he could not explain, and wanted desperately to find out was why it had reprogrammed his DNA to more resemble the supersoldiers that he had created.

She was permitted into the office and stopped before him snapping to stiff attention.  She relayed Kenai's report to Lydecker seeing the interest in his eyes even when his face remained a clean slate.  When she had finished she remained at attention waiting some verdict on what a plan of action might be related to the news.

"Good job, X-8-222," A different voice said from one dark corner of the office, a female voice, "That was exactly the news we were hoping to hear."

From the shadows stepped another soldier, one Torri could not remember ever seeing before.  She was tall and Asian, dressed in a tightly tailored black infiltration suit. Her face was round and slightly pudgy, the features flat and her dark eyes sharply slanted.  Her long dark black hair was plaited but still came to the small of her back.  She stopped next to and just one step behind Lydecker's chair staring at her and Kenai with arrogance that made Torri rankle at the look.

Lydecker glanced back at her a moment and then back to Torri stating, "Torri allow me to introduce you to Bryn."


	8. Under New Management

Chapter Seven: Under New Management

Torri stared in disbelief at the older woman standing so close to Lydecker, intimately close, or maybe it was the touch of jealousy she suddenly felt as she regarded the woman. Perhaps it was the fact that the woman felt instinctively like a threat to her… a threat to her personally, a threat to her working relationship with Lydecker, and a threat to her position as the second in command here at the base. She slowly let out the breath that she hadn't even realized she was holding. She nodded courteously, if slowly, "Ma'am," She said, subconsciously realizing that the woman was of much higher rank than she was.

Lydecker regarded Torri closely seeming to weigh her reaction to the new player in this little scene. After a few moments he seemed to get the answer he wanted from her, for he spoke again, "Bryn is here as a representative of the Committee."

Torri felt her insides twist at the word, the Committee was a volatile lot of individuals. Their "interests" changed seemingly on a whim often leaving those who worked under them in the dark about the new objective. Lydecker had suffered his share of the ill winds of change in the Committee's eyes, his stories had made even her shudder. And they had certainly not become more benign with the passage of time and the entrenchment of their organization. Even the recent events concerning the experimentation on the X-5 had been tampered with by that group of men and women turning a reclamation effort into a grotesque twist in their objective. If they had their hands in this mess then there was going to be hardships on the part of her team. Lydecker cleared his throat, seeing the look of concern glaze over Torri's features. She tried to suppress the startlement at the sound. She focused her eyes again turning her attention back to what Lydecker was relaying.

"Your news is rather fortuitous, actually," he informed her leaning back in his chair and setting down his pen. Torri immediately noticed that this "Bryn" sidled just a touch closer to him. She realized then that Bryn seemed to be feeling threatened by what she sensed existed between Torri and Lydecker, "This man… Logan Cale… he has piqued the Committee's interest. They want him… as I do, because of the singularly unique quandary his ability poses. Nowhere have they seen these kinds of results on a normal human being. To be honest the thought of experimenting on Norms with Manticore blood had not even occurred to them… or me," he said raising his eyebrows.

"They want to find out if his changes are a fluke, or whether it would work across the board on any human… _before _they invest time and money on any research in that area. Therefore… the committee has authorized a team to be formed for this man's retrieval. You and Kenai will be included in the team, use your judgment on the soldiers that you wish to accompany you, no more than six," Torri felt herself stand more erect with the pride that she had been chosen to lead and of being given the latitude to pick her own people for the operation. Lydecker dashed her pride a moment later, as he added, "Bryn will lead the team… the committee has given her broad authority in this matter, but," and He included Bryn in his warning look, "Mr. Cale is to be taken alive, in good shape and returned here for a full battery of tests."

All three of them nodded in eerie unison, "What of the others, Sir?" Kenai asked, and Torri glared back at him for speaking out of turn yet again.

"What about them? Do what you have to, to get a lead on Max, follow her and she will in turn lead you to her husband. After you get the information you need out of them dispatch them."

"Yes sir!" All of them said as one.

Torri would have liked to have spoken with Lydecker alone after that, but she was not given an opportunity to do so. Lydecker dismissed them and she found herself walking briskly next to the X-5 who was now her superior, like it or not. She glanced over at the taller woman, who did nothing but look straight ahead of her, hands clasped behind her back, and her thoughts seemed miles from this place.

Bryn stopped abruptly causing Torri and Kenai to stop awkwardly next to her. Bryn turned to face Torri and Kenai, "I will expect a roster of names for those accompanying us," She drew out the "us" as if she found the thought of having to work with others distasteful, "by 0500 tomorrow morning, briefing for the mission will be at 0800."

"Yes Ma'am," Torri replied automatically. Boy she was setting the timeline tight, "When are you planning to execute, if I may ask, Ma'am?"

She glanced back at Torri as if she had heard some far off sound, her eyes not even focused on Torri's face, "We will be on the road by no later than 1200." 

Torri felt her jaw clench, realizing that Bryn had now set it so that she would be up all night getting preparations in order if she was going to meet that deadline. Torri resisted the urge to step back as Bryn closed the distance between them and looked down into Torri's face, "Is there a problem X-8-222?"

It was a challenge, though Torri couldn't tell why there was a need, she would follow her superiors' orders if it were Satan himself giving the commands. Part of her was for rising to that bait, but her senses warned her that it could prove deadly, "No problem Ma'am," Torri replied evenly despite her rising anger, "The team and supplies will be ready by the appointed time. You will have the names of the party on your desk by tonight."

She watched as Bryn's eyes narrowed as if assessing for some hidden resentment or insubordination, then relaxed when she could make no breach of propriety apparent, "Good" she said straightening and quickly resumed a professional demeanor, "Begin preparations immediately. You're dismissed."

Smartly she turned on her heel and strode away from the two younger soldiers.

She heard Kenai sigh in relief behind her, "Damn," he muttered, "What a cast iron bitch!"

"Normally I'd have your ass for a statement like that," She said as she looked down the hall that Bryn had gone, "But I'm afraid I have to agree with you on that one."

Torri was as good as her word, better even. She had gotten the list of names together, gathered those individuals she thought were best suited for this kind of operation, and gave them a general brief on what was expected of them and what time to be at the rendezvous point. With Kenai's help she managed to organize everything and get it staged for the next day's events. Thankfully, because of his help she was actually able to catch a couple of hours of sleep before that morning's brief. 

That morning Bryn looked smug about running Torri ragged. Torri noticed however that Bryn was trying to suppress the look of surprise for the accomplishment of the near impossible task that she had set before Torri. Torri only smiled a small smile at her discomfiture and nodded. She had not done it for the older Manticore, oh of course it was a small part of it following her orders, but it was more than that for Torri, she was highly proud of her job. She would no more do a bad piece of work than stop breathing, it was not in her nature. She had yet to mess up any challenge presented her and she was not about to start now.

Bryn looked over the troops and then the lists seeming to find Torri's choices acceptable. From there she quickly briefed them all on the objective and the means by which those objectives would be achieved. The troops looked eager to be on their way, eager to test their mettle even more so because they were after Transgenics.

All of them were junior, picked for their outstanding performance during the recent unrest. Each had shown exceptional restraint, and had continued to perform their duties to the utmost of their ability even when all around them was chaos. Torri appreciated a person who could not only follow an order and respect their superiors, she also admired someone who had enough individuality to not follow the lemmings among them off of a cliff. It was with that foremost in her mind that she had chosen the norm soldiers to accompany them on this mission.

Bryn stepped up to Torri, "Everything seems to be in order," She said in a stern even voice, "Well done," she said almost as if she was going to choke on the words, "The troops are yours to command X-8-222. You will report directly to me," In the back of her mind she wondered momentarily if that wasn't so Bryn could keep and eye on her.

"Yes Ma'am, and Thank you," She said despite her suspicions, deciding it was better not to read too much into what the woman was telling her.

Kito unlocked the door to the apartment and stepped inside sighing heavily. The only thing on his mind at the moment was taking a long hot shower. It seemed that summer had finally come to the Great Northwest, making his already hot and sweaty job miserable. It must have been in the upper eighties by noon today. The day's events had done nothing to make Kito's life easier either. His muscles shook from strain and his whole body hurt. It had been a long time since he had done that much lifting, even when he had still been in Manticore.

The past several weeks, Kito had found that he had been starting to relax, he was no longer constantly plagued by the thoughts of how much he missed his old life at Manticore. He was finally… adjusting, making new friends with his coworkers, laughing at their jokes, even the dumb ones. He was starting to be accepted by the team and being included in their discussions and even invited out "with the boys".

Then something had happened today threatening to tear that trust he had finally built up down to square one yet again. Or at least it felt that way to Kito. What would they say about him now? He would be lucky if they would let him on the lot after today.

They had been attempting to get the last frame, for the house they were constructing, in place and braced until they could join the pieces at the corners. It had been hoisted about halfway to its final spot when the cable brake on the crane had failed. There had been five men and women steadily bracing the wall as it rose when the cable gave way. The frame twisted down opposite of where they had been working destabilizing the brace. The frame jumped free of the brace and then landed back upon it, spitting it out like a toothpick and the section had slammed heavily down onto the shoring team. Kito had been across the grounds on his usual job stacking cords of wood. He had heard the squeal as the cable slipped through the failed brake and the screams of people as they realized the precariousness of their position. Then the dreadful ground shaking thud as the frame landed. He had been in motion before the dust had fully risen. 

Without thinking Kito had rushed in, arriving well before any of the others could arrive. And in his driving need to free the team he had given himself away to any onlookers when he had begun to raise the several thousand pounds of wood and steel by himself. He must have had it raised six inches when he had remembered himself and pretended to struggle with it in an attempt to cover the slip until sufficient numbers had gathered to lend their strength to the effort. 

Several of his co-workers had seemed to notice though, for they had looked at him oddly and had given him enough space that two could have stood to either side of him as they lifted the bulk of the frame off of their friends. His gut had twisted at the sight of their faces, feeling suddenly very transparent to them, like they now knew his whole past just by that one slip in judgement.

They had quickly scrambled more to move the five of them free of the frame. Barney and Josephine had suffered two broken legs and a broken ankle respectively, Terry, who had ended up under Barney had suffered a concussion and some bruised ribs. Bill had suffered a broken arm in his attempt to throw himself free of the falling structure. 

None of the other four had suffered as much as Arney had, he had been tripped in the confusion landing face first on the ground nearest the apex where the wall and the ground met. The frame had hit him square in the small of the back breaking his pelvic bone and shattering his spine irreparably. He had suffered massive internal injuries. Arney had been in surgery for nearly six hours as they worked to repair his broken body. They had said that there was no hope of him ever walking again. Kito shuddered at that thought, unable to imagine being paralyzed. Kito had accompanied them to the hospital, watching as they did what they could for Arney at the same time that they patched up the rest of the crew that had been hurt. He had stayed for hours by Arney's bedside, sitting by the window and just watching him, unable to speak though he had wanted to, unsure even if he could find his voice what he would say to the still unconscious man.

Arney's injury had hit him particularly hard. Arney was the one person who had taken Kito under his wing and had helped him learn the ropes. He was older probably in his forties, he had a stern weathered face with deep crows feet at the corners of his eyes, from squinting, or laughing…. Or perhaps both. White had started to cloud the blue color in his all-seeing eyes adding to the wizened air about him. He was tall and rugged looking with just a hint of a gut starting. His manner was gruff and straight to the point, and it had reminded him a lot of his former drill instructors. It must have been the reason Kito had come to like the man so much. And because of that he felt somehow guilty that Arney had gotten hurt. 

Logic told Kito that it wasn't his fault that it was dumb luck that the cable brake decided to go when it had. Logic did not ease the terrible feeling in his gut for the results of that accident however. He shook his head laughing shortly, "That is what happens when you let sentiment seep in," He thought sardonically. But then again… he was no longer a soldier, no longer one with the whole that had been his life. It was high time for him to let go of that mentality and settle into this confusing, unfathomable, and sometimes wondrous co-existence with the outside world. The resentment for _feeling_ suddenly evaporated then and he took a deep breath feeling as if someone had taken a weight off of his shoulders with that decision.

He smiled to himself as he took off his cap and set it on the table by the door. He was about to set down his keys when he heard it, the scuff of a boot on the hardwood floor in his dining room.

"Tima?" he said drifting the direction of the kitchen key ring suddenly clutched in his hand. There was a feeling of wrongness to the house suddenly, "Tima, is that you?" He asked stupidly, knowing deep down that whoever it was it was not Tima. She was the type that would meet him at the door at the end of a day, not skulk around in the dark trying to unsettle him.

He stepped in looking past the small dining table that took up the open space of the kitchen floor. He saw no one, which did nothing to ease his wariness. He felt the presence of someone behind him and spun quickly finding a taller oriental woman stepping out of the shadows of the hall into the doorway. She cocked her head to one side, as she looked him over. Kito did not recognize the woman, but he tensed as he recognized what she was wearing and therefor represented. She wore a black infiltration suit that was tailored to fit her like a glove and she moved with the easy grace of a predator. Her dark eyes were cold and measuring and her face held no expression. Then Kito knew her for what she was, she was Manticore, and she was a Transgenic. Kito unconsciously slid into a position of defense as he regarded her trying to keep his own anxiety from showing on his face.


	9. Full Circle

Chapter Eight: Full Circle

"Who are you?" Kito asked gruffly, his fist tensed around the keys still in his hands, carefully moving them to a position that they could be used as a weapon.

She silently stepped into the room still assessing him, smirking now as if she had a secret. Kito stood his ground as he watched her approach. She was older than he was, probably as old as Max, which meant that she was probably X-5. That stood to reason, her barcode was not on her forehead. 

This woman was thicker than Max, and he wondered… it was not that she looked out of shape, it looked as if she had been bred. She had a slight bit of paunch, which belied a possible pregnancy and birth. He had been told that selected Manticore Transgenics had been bred to further their research into genetically passing the genomes that caused their preternatural abilities to their offspring. Most were unable to pass those traits to their children though the kids usually carried some small part of the DNA pattern. Usually they ended up being like any other Norm, with maybe a physical marker to show their lineage; usually in the form of unusual eyes or more animalistic features. Small percentages were able to pass the whole package down to their progeny, strength, agility, speed, and heightened sight and hearing. That is what Lydecker and Manticore were looking for, because eventually the DNA bank they had was going to run out, and it would be easier and less expensive to breed new soldiers than to pay scientist to keep mixing up potions. The last he had been informed the results were less than spectacular. Only about one percent of the Manticore group were able to do that and even cloning the DNA patterns of those Transgenics that could pass it on had met with limited success. He wondered on the off hand if this woman before him was one of those few that could pass on her traits? Despite the thought that she may have dammed a child he held no delusions that this woman would be weaker or slower than he was. She looked every bit as deadly as any Transgenic he had ever faced. 

He was distracted from her momentarily as movement caught his eye. To either side of him he found that his brother Kenai and his former leader Torri were now bracing him in. They had been in hiding on the balcony and the guest bath off of the kitchen. He wondered just how long they had been set up on him and Tima. He remembered the low level shocks that he had been feeling off and on over the past few months. Like a signal had been trying to get through his suddenly malfunctioning implant, serving only to shock him instead. Had they managed to trace him by the implant? Or was it something more mundane like he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time? He swallowed hard looking back at the woman in front of him. Whatever the reason there was no use mulling over it, they had found him, and now he was either going to have to fight or surrender. Surrender was out of the question, he might just as well put the gun to his own head and pull the trigger, for he would be just as dead.

The woman was now about two feet from where he stood frozen waiting for an opportunity to present itself, as she stopped with one hand on her hip still smirking at him, "Where is X-5-452?" The woman demanded.

"Who?" Kito asked defiantly, even as his mind did a loop at the mention of her number. They weren't after him, well as a first objective anyway. But what would they want with Max… unless they intended to take her back to Manticore? Somehow he didn't think that was the answer, they wanted her to get to someone else, but who?

"X-5-452… you may know her as Max?" Kito sported a look of confusion, "Max Guevera? Or should I say Max Guevera-Cale?"

His breath caught in his throat as she said that. The answer he had been searching for hit him almost as a physical thing. Guevera-_Cale_… It had to be Logan, both of them had expressed their concern to him about a future attempt to retrieve Logan because of what he had become. The thought steeled his resolve to keep that information away from his former brothers in arms. They must not get Logan, Kito owed him a lot, him and Max both. He could not betray them. Kito's face must have cracked a bit for the woman's face transformed into something ugly, "Where is she?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kito lied. 

The woman lost patience stepping into Kito reaching for the neck of his shirt, exactly as he had wanted her to do. He lashed out with his right fist, a key upright between each knuckle jamming them hard at her left cheek, unfortunately she had already been ducking away from it, confirming her as another Manticore. The intent of tearing her face open from jaw to lip and possibly putting her out of the action was dashed by that move. The keys still left four glaring and profusely bleeding cuts along her cheek. Her hand went to her cheek and there was astonishment clear to read on her face. She had not expected him to get the upper hand on her.

Kito didn't allow the woman time to recover as he followed the action by leaning back using the small table as a brace and kicking out hard catching the her square in the chest. Her momentum drove her back through the doorframe and into the opposite wall of the hall. He heard her grunt as the air was knocked out of her.

He saw from the corner of his eyes the other two reacting finally to the attack on their leader, even as the woman recovered rushing in to rejoin their just begun battle. Kito did not hesitate as he somersaulted backwards landing squarely on the table and out of the way of the older Manticore's swing. He dropped to his back as the other two swung at where he had been and immediately rolled off one side, just as Kenai landed on the table. Kito landed on the linoleum where Kenai had just been standing. Without hesitation he grabbed the leg of the nearest chair and was back on his feet before Kenai had realized that his quarry was no longer where he had been. Kito round house using all of his strength and momentum in a swing aimed at Kenai's leg. He connected just above the knees grinning viciously as he heard the loud pop of the leg collapsing where a knee shouldn't bend. Kenai went down heavily on the tabletop unbalancing it and spilled onto the floor in a fetal ball. To Kenai's credit he did not scream. Kito dodged the upended table and did not pay Kenai any further attention as he moved away now facing two adversaries, one which he knew the measure of and the other one he knew nothing about.

Kito vaulted over the table landing momentarily in front of the older Transgenic then springing up and over her head landing lightly the other side of her. She had already turned to face him, and he threw several punches her way, watching as if in slow motion as she blocked each. He jumped back as a quick leg lashed out his direction. He landed several feet back noticing that Torri was starting to move back into the fray. The distraction was almost the end of him as the woman moved in again, lashing out simultaneously with her right leg and left arm. He blocked the blow aimed at his neck but didn't coordinate it properly to also block her leg that hooked around his ankle and he felt himself falling heavily. He changed the momentum of it turning his fall into a backward somersault kicking out hard as his feet came up. He felt the sharp impact with her chin even as he heard her grunt and go down. 

Kito jumped to his feet and began to retreat just as Torri reached him grabbing his shoulder and spinning him back around. Kito froze as did Torri each just staring at the other. Kito tried to make himself move but knew that it would put him at a tactical disadvantage. Instead he just stood watching her in stalemated silence wondering how long he could delay, before the other woman revived enough to make it an unfair fight. They circled slowly opposite each other measuring and assessing for the opportunity to strike.

"Just give us the information, Kito, let us have her and I'll talk to Lydecker about bringing you back in," Torri said, not relaxing her stance one iota. 

Kito froze for a moment looking into Torri's eyes for sincerity. That was the one thing that he had wanted most was to go back to his ordered little world in Manticore. To be back in with his brothers and sisters, to do what he was made and trained to do. He allowed himself to seriously think about giving them the information for such a prize. He was suddenly appalled at himself at such a thought. He thought back to the past couple of weeks how everything had stopped being so foreign to him, how the routine on the outside world was more freedom than he had ever been given his whole life. How now that he was being given the choice, going back didn't seem like the right one anymore. He had forsaken everything that he had known, for what he understood now was a higher goal. 

He realized something else as he stood there, Torri knew that he must be feeling homesick for Manticore, she knew that offering up that choice would make him stop and think. He nodded toward Torri, "You and I both know the rules, Torri," Kito said in a low voice, "There is no going back," His stance stiffened again, "I won't let you have her, I'll die before I give her up to you," He growled.

"You may get your wish, X-10-352," The older woman responded suddenly next to him, one table leg in motion in her hand. Kito was caught off guard, Torri doing her job all too well in distracting him as she had. The chair leg connected solidly with Kito's nose and he heard and felt it pop. Suddenly there was a rush of warm blood running from his pulped nose. Kito rocked back stunned by the blow, both hands going to his fractured sinus. He barely made out the makeshift bludgeon coming at him, in just enough time to raise an arm to block the blow. Kito heard it snap and cried out as the force of the blow drove the bone up through his skin. Before he could recover she hit him again flat across the ear. His sight flashed white, he never got the chance to recover as the older woman hit him again and again knocking him senseless to the floor. He barely felt the impact.

"Ma'am!" Torri yelled for the third time, losing more respect for the woman each time she hit Kito about the head and face, even though it was clear even to her that Kito was no longer conscious or a threat. She reached out and physically restrained the arm holding the bloodied table leg, "He will not be able to give us any information at all if you continue with this course of action."

Bryn glared at the insolent woman and Torri worried for just a moment that Bryn was going to turn that aggression on her. Then as suddenly as Bryn had lost her control she regained it. She straightened slowly, touching the transmit button on her headset, "Tach team three, building is secure. We have a consolation prize. Any signs of X-10-321?"

"No Ma'am," Torri heard through her own implant.

"Now what Ma'am?" Torri asked, driving home the point that Kito was no longer in any shape to be giving them the information that they had come here for.

Bryn cast a withering glance at her second in command, "Look around… he shares the apartment with the other X-10, perhaps she has it recorded somewhere."

"Do you really think that they would be that careless?"

"Do as your told!" Bryn snapped.

Torri could only nod, moving off to conduct a search for any clues as to the whereabouts of their objective. Just about that time one of the soldiers on perimeter rushed into the apartment.

"Ma'am?" He said stopping in front of Torri saluting smartly and handing her a piece of crumpled paper.

"I found it stuck to the fence on the perimeter Ma'am," He said smartly, "It looks like directions to a penthouse in the tower district." The paper was weathered, the writing faded, but still readable, the white color had yellowed almost to the point that it was brown.

Torri might have thrown the paper back in the young man's face, knowing that the slip of paper could have come from anywhere, and could have been directions to anywhere. She almost did, but for one detail, "Good work," she muttered to the man absently dismissing him.

She rushed it to Bryn just as fast as the soldier had given it to her. Bryn's eyes widened and a wicked smile curled up one corner of her mouth. In the upper left-hand corner followed by detailed instructions on how to get to the place were two words that made the paper invaluable. Written in neat cursive were directions that said, "Logan's Place."

Torri looked at her supervisor, then back at the broken form of Kito, "What about him?" she was almost afraid to ask.

"Bring him, he can watch his friends die," She said acidly.

"Yes Ma'am," Torri replied quietly.


	10. It was Only a Dream

Chapter Nine: "It Was Only a Dream?"

Max moved through the apartment slowly, contemplating the last few months she had been back in society, and with Logan. She sighed, thinking about how they had been through a few rough spots, as would be expected with a long separation. There were times when her guilt or his would surface again, and they found themselves fighting. The specters of both their pasts would rise up and make their current situation miserable. Once or twice they had both considered taking time out from each other, unsure that the problems they were experiencing could be worked out. They could never stay away from each other long, the record being three days, they would get back together and work even harder to solve their problems.

The last month and a half had actually been smooth and they had finally settled into a comfortable routine. They had actually allowed themselves to believe that the happiness they were experiencing was in fact real.

They had added to their usual mundane routine a twice-daily regime of sparring, which seemed to clear them both of any frustrations of the day. Max and Logan both enjoyed the sessions, which more often than not led to passionate lovemaking right there on the sparring mat. Max had regained a lot of her muscle tone and weight, and her ability was about back up to where it had been prior to her internment. Logan had shown himself to be a more than worthy opponent, his skill nearly as good as hers had been when she had been in peak condition. She also was proud of the fact that she never had to worry about him taking it "easy" on her, he fought as if he was fighting for his life, and she matched him in his fervor.

Max stopped in the doorway and watched Logan as he sat in front of his computer. He was talking via IM to two contacts at the same time he was reading compressed files that whizzed by at an incredible speed, a speed that would have allowed no normal human being to understand what they were seeing. Logan took it in comprehending all of it, but he was no longer a normal human being, he was altered by his mutated DNA giving him extraordinary abilities. And not just enhanced speed or strength that she had expected and seen coming out in him but enhanced mental capabilities as well. They were put to good use during his interviews with prospective contacts, his research and his ability to do at least five separate tasks at the once in less time than it took most to do one. He had gotten too fast for his "state of the art" system in less than six months after the appearance of his initial abilities. He turned the preternatural Manticore abilities to different uses than Max had or any Manticore she had ever known, being that he was not inherently a fighter.

She watched him for a while longer, wondering when would be a good time to interrupt him with her news. He seemed engrossed in what he was doing, and she had seen him this submerged before, it usually took him awhile if he was interrupted to redirect his concentration to what was being said. She had sworn that she could see the information flowing across his pupils one time when she had interrupted him midstream. So she waited a while longer until he looked as if he was surfacing from the information flow.

"What is it?" He said suddenly, sensing her presence there, turning to face her. He smiled at her disconcerted look. That still drove her absolutely nuts that he could tell exactly when she was there or exactly her route through the place. It was impossible to sneak up on him. He stretched a long time before standing up and walking over to her. He laid light hands on her arms and kissed her lovingly, "You look like you got something on your mind," He said softly.

She smiled, "You becoming psychic too?" She teased him, then turned away and walked into the kitchen seating herself at one of the barstools. 

He followed her looking curious, "So do I get to know what's going on inside that lovely head of yours or do I get to guess?"

"Oh I don't think that you could guess this one," Max said softly.

"What? You're pregnant?" Logan said jokingly.

"Are you sure you're not becoming a psychic?" She said sarcastically squinting at him as she laid her hand on her hip.

Logan's eyes widened, "You mean… You're really…." 

"Whoa… the great Logan Cale at a loss for words," she chided him, "I am impressed…. Yes, Sam confirmed it today."

Before she knew what had happened he was embracing her and kissing her forehead, "Max that's wonderful!" He said enthusiastically looking down into her eyes happy and very much in love, "How far along?" He asked.

"About six to eight weeks," She said sounding happy and uncertain at the same time. Suddenly she was trembling.

"Max… what's wrong?"

She looked into his face with watery eyes, "I'm scared, Logan. What if I don't carry it to term… what if I lose it… just like the others?"

"You'll be fine Max," Logan reassured her squashing down hard on his own doubts about the ability of his wife to give birth to this child. Right behind that was the thought of his own age and his ability to be there when his child was growing up in this rough and tumble world, "Everything will be alright, you'll see," he said sounding strong even if he didn't necessarily feel that way.

Logan's head came up and his gaze moved the direction of the front door, "Kito's here," Logan said softly, releasing Max and moving toward the door. Max followed close behind him as he reached the door. He was about to open it when he said, "Jesus, no," backing away quickly, "Max! Get down!" He yelled pushing her into the side hall as he hit what she recognized as the panic button on his computer and grabbed the nine-millimeter he still kept in arms reach at all times just as the door exploded inward.

Max watched helplessly as Logan was knocked back ten feet by the concussion of the blast. Before the smoke had even cleared Logan was firing into it from his back. She heard someone behind the smokescreen grunt and go down. As the smoke thinned six armed soldiers filed into the apartment training guns on Logan. He raised his hands and let the pistol fall. Still in a state of mental shock Max watched as if in slow motion as the beaten and bloody form of Kito was ushered into the hall. His hands were shackled behind him held at what looked to be a painful angle. His feet did not seem to stay under him dragging and stumbling as he was compelled to move forward. His captor walked in with all the air and authority of someone who knew they had won. She was flanked by two younger Manticore soldiers barcodes standing out like beacons on their foreheads. The one on the left was a short stout black girl with only a skullcap of hair and her barcode stood out like a negative before exposure stark white against her dark skin. The one to the right of the leader was a tall red headed burly looking young man. He walked with a decided limp and by the look of his leg, Kito did not go down easily. Each of the younger ones signaled the men nearest them whom moved off to search the rest of the apartment. Two of the soldiers trained guns on Logan and ordered him to lay flat on his stomach as one of them roughly put manacles on his wrists. They then forced him up onto his knees where they left him guns trained on his temples. 

The woman in the lead dropped Kito on the ground, he was unable to catch himself and he landed heavily on his face. There he remained unmoving and Max noticed that he was barely breathing, beaten within an inch of his life. One arm looked dislocated or broken, as did his nose. His face was barely recognizable, covered in bruises and his left brow lip and right ear were split from repeated hits with something blunt.

The woman took one step forward straddling Kito's broken form as she moved her surly gaze about the visible portion of the apartment. One cheek was raked with four furrows the blood drying in cracking streaks down to her chin.

"Orders ma'am?" The short black woman asked calmly. As she did the remaining soldier returned, adding their firepower to ensure that Logan and Max did not move. The woman's eyes stopped when she encountered Max crouched where Logan had pushed her. She was stunned to be seeing that face again after all these years. Max began to wonder why she and Zach had allowed Manticore to take their friend back even if she had been dying. 

"Bryn," Max breathed, she was waking up from her dream again…. Into a nightmare.

"Kill her, Him…Lydecker wants him alive," She said evenly.

"NO!" Max screamed.

"No!" Max burst, starting awake, breathing heavy and drenched in sweat. The room was dark and silent, there was no smoke, no soldiers looming over her, no broken body of Kito lying before her. Bryn was not standing in her hallway waiting to take Logan away from her, giving him over into slavery. The grip of it was still strong in her head though, "God," She whispered finding herself crying.

"M…Max?" She heard Logan say sleepily beside her, "Is everything OK?" Slowly he sat up as well hearing her crying and wrapped an arm around her, "Max?" he asked again.

"A nightmare," she muttered through her tears, "It was just a nightmare." She said quietly.

"Max? Maaax?" A voice penetrated the dream of her relief. The bedroom that Logan and She shared began to blur the muted colors melting together as reality intruded on her fondest desire that the attack had only been a nightmare. 

The voice came again now penetrating the blackness that followed her dream of denial, and it was not Logan's, it was deeper more resonant, but still familiar to her ears. Someone was gently shaking her sending sharp waves of pain through her body. Slowly her eyes fluttered open but all she could see was an undefined pattern in front of her eyes. Light and dark patches shifted from above her and rolling her eyes up she saw her own hair cascaded across her face. Looking back down again there was a dark spot marring that pattern nearest her left eye, it was glossy and against her face it was sticky and cold. Blood! She jerked sharply trying to raise herself out of the pool and immediately regretted the move. She was unable to breathe for long moments until the pain subsided.

"Don't move," The voice said, one hand creating fire on her shoulder. Abruptly she put a face with the voice. A person she had known almost as long as she had known Logan. A gentle-man who had taught Logan as much about living as Logan had taught her about trusting.

"Bli…" She tried to speak, but her mouth didn't want to work for some reason. She tried to push up again. Only to feel heavy hands of shooting pain push her back down again. Her arms felt like lead, and she realized suddenly that she couldn't feel anything below her right elbow. In contrast the shoulder back was on fire all the way down to her toes. The side of her face that was on the ground was numb, not like it had fallen asleep, but deep all the way into her sinuses, almost as if someone had given her a shot of Novocaine.

"Please Max, don't move, an ambulance is on it's way," Bling said soothingly pulling the matted hair out of her line of vision. She rolled her eyes up again to look at him, he was a blurry moving splotch above her. 

"Wu… happun," She slurred out only after decided concentration.

"Near as we can figure… you took a header out of the apartment," Bling said with some concern, "And didn't land on your feet this time. The apartment's a mess… Max what happened here?"

In a rush the memories came flooding back to her, the intrusion into the apartment by Bryn and her team of transgenic soldiers. Kito's beaten body dropped at her feet like so much garbage. Their intentions to take Logan from her, their orders to kill her. All of it came back in a wave of her despair.

She remembered screaming and all was reaction after that. She had jumped up lashing out at Bryn, with desperate fury they had tangled for more than a few minutes and she remembered Logan joining the fight despite the shackles pinning his hands behind his back. She remembered suddenly seeing him with his hands in front of him and had vaguely wondered how he had managed that. She last saw Logan causing mayhem among the younger soldiers set to guard him while she was to be dispatched. Logan was at a disadvantage though and the short Black Manticore girl had overcome him, knocking him out with the butt of one of the rifles dropped during the skirmish.

She had then turned that gun on Max, and with self-preservation in mind she had disengaged from her fight with Bryn and turned to run, intent on breaking out the kitchen window just as she had the first night she and Logan had met. She remembered the bullets ringing out, the tearing pain in her arm throwing her off balance and the sharper pain as she struck the frame of the window. She had blacked out after that. That was a three-story fall, and while she was conscious it was no big deal, unconscious was another matter however and by the feel of her body she had landed in the worst possible way.

Max began crying at the remembrance of those events. Realizing that when she had thought she had wakened from her nightmare she had only been dreaming and the reality was the grim bloody mess she had wanted to be only the nightmare. Her sobs aggravated her already pain-wracked body, as the realization set in that they had succeeded in getting Logan. 

"K…Kito?" She wheezed, remembering the shattered body of the man again in her mind's eye.

"He was left in the apartment, Tima is with him," Bling laid a soft hand on the feeling side of her face, "He may not make it, he wasn't breathing when we got here. Torri brought him back, but we don't know how much longer he is going to hold out," Bling said, "Max, where's Logan?" Bling said softly.

"Th… they…" she shuddered through another sob and the pain it caused her, "He's gone!" She spit in a new fit of tears.

"What?!" Bling said incredulously.

"They took him," She said in one coherent burst before she lost all control and the tears took over all her concentration.


	11. Fallout

Chapter Ten: Fallout

Torri sat perfectly still staring out the small window that allowed little light from the cab into the cold recesses of where she sat. Her senses were alert for any movement from their captive who lay across from her on the floor of the refrigerated truck bed. Her thoughts however were a million miles away. It had been a messy but rewarding mission. She had lost one of the soldiers under her command, taken down before he even had a chance to join the fight. The man that Lydecker had so desperately wanted had accurately and fatally shot the boy without ever seeing him. Her mouth thinned, there was something more to his ability than just what fighting prowess he possessed, but just what was like a butterfly that would flit out of her mental grasp just about the time she had it pinned down. She recalled back to when Lydecker had been taken and how someone in that group kept sensing where the bullet was going to come from next and move Lydecker into that line of fire, foiling all of their attempts to thwart their escape. She wondered if this man had something to do with that.

They had secured the apartment pretty quickly, shackling their prize and cornering the X-5 that was with him. Then all hell had broken loose, with the woman struggling against Bryn and the man suddenly jumping into the fray. Torri had managed to subdue him but not before he had taken down and severely injured several members of her small group of soldiers. She had knocked him out cold and had turned to carry out the orders to terminate the X-5. The woman had broken off her attack of Bryn and had headed directly for the kitchen window. Torri had lit off her weapon watching as one of the bullets grazed her and threw her off balance. She had hit her head on the frame of the glass before breaking through it. Torri had run up to the window and watched as the woman had fallen, and she knew long before the woman landed that she was unconscious. She had grimaced seeing the impact that the woman had taken and shuddered as the delayed thud reached up to her perch.

She had turned back around to face her superior, "I'll go check to make sure she is dead Ma'am," She had said taking her orders very seriously when it came to the disposition of the X-5.

Bryn moved over to the window and looked down at the unmoving form of her fellow X-5, "Don't bother X-8-222, she's not going anywhere." She stepped away from the window, Torri just watching her closely. Bryn stepped over to the lifeless form of Kito then, rolling him roughly over, and checking for a pulse. She drew her fingers away looking disgusted, but satisfied with whatever she had come up with.

"Get Cale and bring him…" she glanced around the room once, "We're done here," and with that she had strode out the door. Torri had picked the man up bodily and brought him to this vehicle herself, dumping him on the floor like so much garbage, securing his wrists in behind him and shackling them to his ankles.

Torri focused once more on her surroundings, feeling bitter about sitting and watching an unconscious man in a box he couldn't get out of. Bryn had ordered her back here while the rest of the team either rode in the cab of the truck or in the Humvee behind the truck. And Torri couldn't help but wonder whether or not it had to do with the rivalry Bryn seemed to insist on having with her. 

Bryn had ordered him stripped of all but his underwear, which struck Torri as odd but she had done as she was told. Seeming to feel a need to explain herself Bryn had stated it was to keep his body temperature down and reduce his ability to fight should he wake up some time during the trip. Torri's mouth thinned, as the thought occurred to her that Bryn was just trying to humiliate the man.

The older woman bothered Torri. Torri was used to her superiors being in control, of a situation, of their troops and above all of their emotions. Lydecker had always made sense to Torri, his thoughts and directions had always seemed logical. Rarely had he ever given her a reason to doubt his command ability. In Bryn she saw none of that, her orders often didn't make sense, or contradicted earlier orders she herself had given. Granted she was given a lot of lee to change orders as the conditions warranted, but Torri had noticed no such warranting conditions. She seemed to waffle a lot. Her handling of Kito had been way out of line, especially when their objective had been to first get information out of him, before any further action was taken. They had been damned lucky that her trooper had found that fortuitous piece of trash stuck to a fence. Or else they might have been out of luck, or worse, they would have had to stay longer and wait for Tima to return and see if she would be any more cooperative. She shook her head again, doubtful, very doubtful. Torri wondered if Bryn problems had anything to do with the reconditioning she had undergone ten years ago when she had been returned to the fold. Oh yes Torri knew about that, she had been one of the very few successes in reconditioning a mind that had been returned from the outside world. But she had often wondered if such a procedure didn't scar the mind of the person subjected to it.

Torri shook her head feeling blasphemous for having such mutinous thoughts about the woman that she was charged with helping. But she would be glad to get back under Lydecker's command and away from this vindictive piece of work she was forced to work for now.

Torri was torn from her contemplation by movement from her charge.

Logan's first sensation upon waking from his induced unconsciousness was the cold. His whole body shivered uncontrollably, his eyelids pressed more tightly together, as he tried to convince himself that it was his imagination. He tried to convince himself that a lot of the past few hours had been figments of his overtaxed mind. Slowly he opened his eyes a crack, clenching his teeth tightly at the sight that greeted him. It was dark but his eyes adjusted quickly turning the black into an infrared green. He was lying prone on the floor in what looked to be a large box. The hard cold surface underneath him bit into the flesh of his inexplicably bare arms and chest. He could feel the cold air move over his unprotected legs as well. It seemed they only left enough clothes on him to be reasonably decent in mixed company. He vaguely wondered what purpose that would serve.

They were moving, for he felt the vibration and the sporadic bouncing that subjected him to bruising jars against that which he lay. Slowly he let the breath he had held upon waking out watching as it condensed in front of his eyes, so the cold wasn't his imagination. He was able to confirm that when he was able to make out the coils along the walls, which meant this was a refrigeration car of a train or maybe a truck. 

Discomfort in his arms was the next sensation that filtered through to his cold sluggish brain. He realized that they had been secured behind him sometime after they had rendered him unconscious. Probably about the same time they had taken his clothes. His shoulders ached from the unnatural angle that had put them. That proved to him beyond a doubt the reality of what had happened to him in his own home. His body jerked involuntarily as he remembered Max. What had happened to her? They had been going… going to kill her! His heart beat faster and he could not breath as that thought jolted him. Had she gotten away or had then succeeded in taking her out of his life for good? He felt colder with the thought that he didn't know, and might never find out. His mind of course fed him the worst possible scenario that she was lying dead on the floor of their apartment, and Kito with her. He grit his teeth again, "Not again, please not again." He thought shutting his eyes against the pain, they had just gotten back in the groove of being in each others lives. Now they were separated again by the wedge named Manticore. It seemed they were never going to catch a break.

It was just like the last time: Max finding out that she was pregnant, an ambush by Manticore, and now he didn't know whether she was alive or dead. The only difference was that he was now the subject of Manticore's desires and she would be the one left behind to deal with his absence. 

And Kito…he had led Manticore to them. That thought went round and round in his head, souring the more he thought on it. Logan was sure that Kito had not done it willingly, especially the condition in which Kito was dropped just inside his door. But it still made him mad, Manticore Transgenics were supposed to be conditioned to resist torture, even when faced with death itself. By appearances it seemed that Kito had been broken, he had surrendered information that had been kept a secret from Manticore for eleven years. But perhaps he should not read that much into what he saw, Manticore had always been good at deception. Manticore may have purposely brought his battered body before them to lead them to think just that, that they had coerced him into giving them away. Divide and conquer.

Logan opened his eyes again, blinked a time or two and looked about his surroundings again. His searching eyes froze on the other occupant of the box he was now incarcerated in. It was the dark skinned girl from the apartment, the ache in his face came back as he looked at her and remembered the butt of the rifle connecting just under his left eye. She was sitting on the opposite side of the box and just a little behind his limited field of view, the reason that he had not seen her immediately upon waking. She wasn't looking at him but staring toward the cab of the vehicle evident only by the wan light shining through a small window at one end. Logan moved his eyes that direction unable to see through the frost stained glass. She looked to be unaffected by the cold of the truck they were in but then again she had more on than he did.

Logan shifted slightly, trying to get feeling back into his numb arms, unable to make them move in order to support his attempt to sit up. As he did he discovered that his ankles had also been bound together and the two, his ankles and his wrists were connected to each other as a chilled section of chain lay against the back of his thigh. His movement drew the woman's attention and the barrel of her gun fixed quickly on his prone form. Logan immediately froze again watching her intently. The barrel was aimed steadily at him and she was scowling. Logan picked up a hint of curiosity in her eyes, "Let me sit up," Logan said or tried to, it came out as more of a croak. He cleared his throat before he said, "I can't feel my arms." 

Her head raised a bit and she looked down her nose at him, she drew in a slow breath as she did. She looked shocked a moment and Logan wondered just why. It dawned on him a moment later, he shouldn't have been able to see her at all, there was very little light in here and any Norm would be blind to her presence. He grimaced inwardly, if they had possessed any doubts about him he had just dispelled them. He had just confirmed for them what he was, a freak, not Norm any longer and not Manticore but something trapped between the two. Just what they wanted, just what they had been after.

Finally the shock faded from her face and she nodded assent at him but did not lower her weapon. He frowned, they were taking no chances with him were they? He had hoped that she would at least have given him a hand getting into a better position. Instead he was forced to thoroughly embarrass himself as he rolled up onto his knees and forehead. Once there he rocked back onto his heels and ungracefully flung himself back against the wall bruising both shoulder blades as he did. He couldn't look at the girl for long moment's very put out by his circumstance. Slowly circulation returned to his arms and he grimaced, as the tingling became almost painful.

"Better?" He heard her ask gruffly.

Logan looked up at her seeing her with a raised eyebrow now, the only difference he saw in her expression. He smiled sarcastically, "Yes, much." The eyebrow raised higher as if she had never been subjected to that kind of tone before. Logan lowered his eyes again, aware of the throbbing pain in his cheek where she had taken several layers of his skin off. Awkwardly he raised one newly awakened hand to that throbbing scrape, dragging his opposite arm up his back by the manacles. He had to lean his head down to meet his own questing fingers, unable to get his trailing arm to stretch far enough to reach. The spot was tender and, to his fingers, swollen and his fingers came away sticky from the fluid still oozing from the not quite scabbed sore. That told him that he had not been out that long. 

Logan looked up again as he heard the sound of the gun shifting. She had relaxed her aim on him, now resting the weapon across her lap but within easy reach should he try something. They sat for a long time in silence, and Logan moved his gaze to stare at the opposite wall. His mind was racing however, wondering what they were going to do with him next.

If Max had survived, "Please God, say she is still alive," He thought suddenly, not sure if was going to be able to handle thinking of her as dead again. He closed his eyes again a moment, "No," He told himself, "She is alive, she has to be. I have to believe that she is," She would mount a search party and she would come after him. But what could he do in the meantime? He had an idea what they meant for him, testing, certainly, possibly experimentation… but exactly what eluded him. All he could do right now was survive, hope Max was all right, and hope that she would come for him soon.

Torri just stared at the man just as he was staring at a spot about midway between them. She couldn't help but notice just how handsome the man was. He was definitely older, as much as twice her age, but his body was that of a much younger man. Nothing about him showed a life of decadence and pleasure, an impression that she had gotten by the looks of his house. She knew something about the economy and where he lived and the size of his apartment told a lot about just how much the man was worth, financially. 

But this man was no cheese-puff sitting around his decadent pad and getting fat. His muscles were firm, well defined, and she watched intently as they shifted under his skin in an automatic reaction to the sway and shake of the truck as it trundled down the road. Some of her brothers and sisters weren't this well muscled, she thought. His face was all rugged good looks, he was not clean shaven like the men she was used to seeing but it added an air to him that just made her want to like him. His light eyes in the moments that they had actually looked at her were emotional, expressive eyes. She had also seen in them a measure of sadness, as if he had experienced a great deal of hardship. His hair was a total state of disorder, a common fashion on the outside, and it seemed that he was not immune. Normally she did not like disorder of any sort but on him the look was right somehow. Long before he had awakened she had noticed the ugly scar on his left leg, and curiosity pricked at her about what exactly could have happened to him to leave such a profound mark.

She leaned forward seeing his eyes come up at the sound of her movement, "You're not Military are you?" Torri asked in a low voice, knowing she would be disciplined if Bryn overheard in the cab.

He tilted his head to one side, "Gee, you think?" He answered her, and then he looked away from her again, "I don't even know what I'm doing here."

She grinned, "You're a bad liar," Torri stated evenly, "How else would you know that I was here unless you were able to see me? And if that's the case then you're not a Norm. That's what you're doing here."

"You're noisy," He said shortly, but she saw the twitch in his face that told her that he had regretted giving himself away to her.

"So it's true then, Manticore blood changed you." He remained silent still looking at the spot he had chosen this time to stare at, "I never had the privilege of seeing you fight, though more than a few of my brothers have said that you are nearly as good as us."

"Why don't you take off the shackles and you can have a first hand demonstration," He growled vehemently, those blue eyes suddenly intent on her, much like a lion sizing up a Zebra.

Torri leaned back smiling a little at his challenge, "I don't think so."

He snorted, "Thought not." And Torri rankled a bit at his tone. 

They both went silent for a long time, and Torri watched as he began shifting in a manner which told her he was uncomfortable with the position that he was in. Not that she could blame him it was about thirty-two degree's in here. 

He also seemed uncomfortable with his hands secured behind him as he scooted out from the wall and raised his shackled hands as high as the mid chain would allow, behind him in an attempt to stretch out the cramped muscles. Before she could react however he had lowered his arms and deftly scooted his shackles under his posterior. 

Quickly she raised the gun again, and he froze again staring at her in an unnervingly calm manner. Shortly he shifted again and his hands were now under his knees and behind his ankles, "You'd better hold still, or you will force me to shoot you." She ordered.

He smiled in an utterly confident fashion as he said, "You could… but then Bryn and Lydecker would both be very upset that you terminated their prize experiment, wouldn't they?" She felt her eyes widen in surprise as he mentioned those names. He smiled even more broadly at her discomfiture, "What you don't think I know what's going on? You didn't think I knew about Lydecker's interest in me? And if Lydecker's interested that means the committee's interested," He shook his head at her and proceeded to clear his hands of his ankle-shackles and cross them over his knees, "And if that's the case they want me alive."

She jumped up then intent on getting him back into a more controllable position even if it meant putting his lights out again. She raised the butt of her rifle again and she closed the small space between them, but, as she got within striking distance, he lashed out with his shackled feet catching her in the ankles and spun on one hip dropping her heavily on her back. Before she could regain her feet he had rolled over one shoulder and onto his feet. He lost balance as the shackles kept his feet too close together for a proper landing. He hopped backwards before he fell back bracing himself in the aft corner of the truck. Torri spun to face him her face ugly with anger and embarrassment.

He looked just as angry as he said hotly, "Don't… touch me!"

Torri's gun came up again, her finger on the trigger, "If you don't cooperate, Cale, you'll have more to worry about than a raspberry on your cheek," She growled angrily, "Now sit down!"

He did nothing for long moments but stand there braced in the corner and stare at her like an angry cornered animal. Finally he smiled that unnerving smile at her again and slowly slid down the wall sitting in a modified cross-legged fashion with both hands resting now comfortably in his lap, "Yes, Much better," She heard him whisper and then he just closed his eyes ignoring her.

Slowly she resumed her watch sitting back where she had been before, but she found herself more wary than ever of this mystery man whom Lydecker claimed was the next step in Manticore's evolution.


	12. Fallout: Part 2

Chapter Eleven: Fallout (Part Two)

Max slowly opened her eyes, or in this case eye. Her face felt hot and puffy and immediately started to ache as she looked around her. She found herself surrounded by hospital equipment, and it suddenly reminded her of a place that she had recently gotten free of. A shock of fear shot through her body and she sat bolt upright in bed at the thought that they had her again. She doubled over in pain at the sudden contraction of sore muscles over bruised and broken bones.

When the pain had eased she looked around her again, noticing that the place was a little too homey for a Manticore lab. There were curtains on the windows drawn tightly together and it was dusky in the room. Manticore did not take any such consideration when it came to their patients. She glanced toward the door watching as heads bobbed by the small window. They were just people, no faces looked in with berets on their head and guns in their hands, just the ebb and flow of normal people moving on about their lives. Max let out a breath relaxing a bit at the sight.

She tensed a moment later when she remembered that the unthinkable had happened. Logan's and her formerly private sanctum had been violated and Logan had now been taken from her. Her face dropped as she remembered what Bryn had done to Kito and intended to do to her as well, they had tried to kill her, and she had barely escaped by the skin of her teeth…she was lucky to be here at all. A pang rose in her stomach wondering if he had survived, she vaguely remembered Bling saying that Kito was in bad, bad shape, and was unsure if he would even make it. She suddenly wished that Bling were here to talk to.

She realized then just what she had done to get out alive and what had happened as a result. She must look like death warmed over. Looking down she found her right arm was in a sling up past the elbow and two of her fingers were in splints, when she attempted to move her arm, she nearly fainted in pain, realizing her left collarbone was broken. Looking at her left arm she saw a set of stitches holding her arm closed where the bullet had grazed her. The ache in her body as she raised her good hand told her that her gown was covering a good number of really nasty bruises.

Realizing her face was numb Max reached up and ran her fingers over it. Her exploring fingers encountered evenly spaced stitches holding closed a two-inch gash on the left side of her forehead and brow, a similar one was found on her right cheek over the highest part of her cheekbone. Her left eye was swollen completely shut and she silently hoped it was only the soft tissue damage that was creating the effect. As it was her depth perception was screwed. Looking around out of her right eye, she glumly thought the swelling of her already rounded face must resemble the size and shape of a large basketball.

Almost as an afterthought she remembered her unborn child, and wondered how, if at all, her fall might affect her pregnancy. She reached her hand to her belly, knowing it was too soon to tell anything, yet somehow the action was comforting. This was the one she wanted to keep more than anything in the world, and now more than ever. She fervently hoped the trend she had suffered in Manticore would not continue with her current pregnancy. She had nearly lost count of the number of times that she had been impregnated back in that lab, at least ten times. Not a single one of them had lasted, the longest she had been able to carry was five months. Each had ended in a miscarriage. She wanted this pregnancy to be different; she wanted this child that she had conceived with Logan. 

She knew, without a doubt, they would not kill him, they wanted to unlock the puzzle he presented. That meant that they would hold him. Max's mouth thinned, they would probably take him back to the local base of operations. The question was how was she going to get him back? Security would be even tighter now, because Lydecker would expect them to try a rescue. It would be suicide to just rush back in.

Her musing was interrupted as the doctor stepped through the door. She smiled despite the pain it caused her, "Sam?" she whispered.

He smiled back at her, but it was somewhat more reserved than she would have liked, "Hey Max," He said stepping over to her bedside. He leaned over and expertly examined her face, lightly touching the flesh around the laceration, "How are you feeling?" he asked her looking into her good eye.

"As good as can be expected, I guess," She replied softly, "How bad is it?"

"Pretty good considering the fall you took," He said, "Nothing like being a revved up girl to keep you from killing yourself on a fall like that."

She shrugged, and then winced, "I've taken that jump before, no sweat, but it's just not the same when you're unconscious."

He continued to examine her even as he talked, "I'll state the obvious first…your collarbone is broken as is your left forearm and your middle and ring fingers are dislocated. You suffered a concussion from your impact with whatever split your brow open, and your impact with the roof below the kitchen window didn't help things out." He moved one of the exposed fingers on her left hand alternately pressing on it and letting it go to see how her circulation was, "Can you feel that?" He asked and Max nodded, "Good there seems to be no nerve damage."

"I can't see through my eye," Max said slowly. She was worried she had pulped or lacerated her eye, remembering all too well the pain of her initial impact with the window frame.

"Luckily that is temporary, just your body's reaction to the abuse you put your brow and cheek through. There appears to be no fractures anywhere in that area. You just laid it open, but," He leaned in whispering, "You got one hell of a shiner."

She smiled slightly but it didn't stay on her face long. "And," She took a deep breath, dreading the next question and its possible answer, "What about the baby?"

Sam gave her a comforting look, "It's still a little early to tell, but so far, there are no signs it sustained any trauma from your accident. The heartbeat is strong and all the signs look as if the baby is none the worse for the wear."

She smiled in relief, "Thanks Sam."

"Well you look better," Sam said standing up and sighing. She though he looked a little distraught himself and became concerned for him. Surely Sam had heard that Logan had been taken. Sam had been Logan's physician for a long time and Logan had become very good friends with the him.

Sam had let himself in on Logan's secret long before Logan and Max's marriage, when Logan had gone back to prove he wasn't "imagining things" as Sam had suggested when feeling had first returned to Logan's legs. Then Sam was amazed at the miraculous recovery of Logan's ability walk and the development of his extraordinary abilities.

Max reached out with her good hand, touching him lightly on the wrist. Sam looked down at her, "We'll get him back," She whispered firmly. It was said to convince herself as much as it was to convince him.

He nodded, "I know," He said softly, "I just hope he's OK."

Max dropped her hand and looked away, "Me too."

Zach and Tima moved swiftly through the dense undergrowth easily avoiding the low hanging branches that seemed to reach out for them as they sped past. They slowed as they neared the clearing surrounding their objective, Zach pausing to signal Tima to take cover. She immediately faded behind the nearest scrub, and once she was hidden he slowly proceeded through the bramble to get a better look at the facility.

Zack had decided to go as soon as he saw Tima's sickened face as she relayed the wrecked, blood soaked condition she found the apartment in. She had tried to contact him then, but he had been out taking care of his own business, so she had called Bling. Bling had been waiting for Tima at the front door of Logan's apartment. The entrance had confirmed the worst, Manticore had finally tracked Max and Logan down. Kito was not breathing and had no pulse when she arrived. She had taken over tending to him while Bling had searched the apartment for clues as to what happened and why. When he arrived in the dining area off the kitchen he had immediately noticed the broken window, and when he had looked out he had been horrified to find Max lying unmoving three stories below.

Max was now in the hospital, busted up, but in stable condition and Kito was on full life support, hanging on to his life by a mechanical thread. Kito had suffered a major concussion fighting the Manticores and would most likely die due to the swelling of his brain.

Here was Manticore once again meddling in affairs they should have left alone many years back. Zack was feeling that old paternal protectiveness coming back concerning his fellow "Renegades". He had thought that he was done with that, Manticore had left them alone for so long that Zack had gotten comfortable with letting the others, those few that were left, handle their own affairs.

As much as the two of them had not gotten along for so many years, Zack was going to make damn sure that Logan would not stay in Manticore's clutches. Their relationship had mellowed out, though it was a sometimes-uneasy truce. Zack, after all, would always remember just how much he was in love with Max. But now he had someone of his own, and the fact that Max had chosen Logan over him did not hurt so much anymore. Besides that he still owed the older man his life, several times over.

Zack stopped as the cover thinned, breaking out his high powered binoculars and looking over the facility. Everything looked tranquil and mundane, it looked like a Tuesday afternoon, just the guards left, it did not look as if they were expecting to receive a prisoner. Zack frowned as he watched one after another of the perimeter guards for some signs of heightened alert or that something out of the ordinary was happening. If the prediction that they would bring Logan back here was accurate, then the transport should have been here hours ago and security would have been stepped up. There was nothing here to indicate that Logan and whatever party took him had arrived.

He lowered his binoculars a moment glancing back at the piece of forest that hid his partner, he signaled for her to advance to his position. The bushes rustled slightly and then all was still until Tima was suddenly at his side. He handed her the binoculars silently and she surveyed the scene as well. She lowered them a moment later and met Zack's questioning gaze, frowning.

"Something's wrong," Zack growled in a low voice, "He should have been brought here by now."

"I agree," she said just as quietly.

"You don't suppose that they took him to different facility, do you," Zack offered.

Tima just shook her head, "I hope not… Let's give it a bit, there may be a reason for the delay."

He nodded, smiling at her. He reached over to touch her soft face a moment. A moment later he caught his slip and he forced himself back to the matter at hand. She smiled coyly as she looked away returning her attention to the compound before them.

"Let's see if we can get a bit closer. Split up and we'll meet at that outcrop right near the guard tower," Zack said suddenly all business again.

Tima nodded, "See you down there," She smiled again at him and silently slinked away through the ferns picking her way slowly down to the new rendezvous.

Zack watched her lithe body as she slowly disappeared into the green. He shook his head, trying to erase the thoughts that were trying hard to distract him from what he was supposed to be doing here. He snorted quietly and moved off the opposite direction of Tima in a round about route to his destination.

Zack had never thought he would get over his love of Max, she had been his alpha and omega for so long that the thought of seeing anyone else had seemed absurd to him. All the worse for the fact that he could never have Max, her heart had, for a long time, already belonged to Logan. He never thought that he would feel that way for anyone else. It had therefore surprised him how quickly he had fallen for Tima's emotional, shy charm. She had immediately intrigued him.

They had started dating soon after the mission to retrieve Max from this very facility, and it had been the best thing that he had ever known. Unrequited love had nothing on his and Tima's relationship. He laughed shortly to himself. Max had given him guff about how much the younger girl had toned down his constant drive to play "Mother Hen", and "Mr. Military. He grinned crookedly, he would have to agree with that assessment, she had affected him in some very positive ways.

It was not long before Zack reached the boulder leaned onto a small tree near the guard tower. Tima was already awaiting him there, her back to the rock and looking over her shoulder toward the guards. 

They remained where they were for nearly five hours, listening to the guards watching for some sign of their accosted friend. There should have at least been some gossip regarding Logan either being here or on his way here. Not even Manticore Soldiers were above spreading juicy scuttlebutt around the compound. Yet there was nothing, no word, no hint, not even a rumor of his arrival.

Zack and Tima shared a glance at one another, Zack shook his head in the negative signaling a fall back to discuss what was next to do. They returned to their higher perch above the compound, "I don't think he's coming here."

Tima looked grim and a little stricken by that thought, "So what do we do?" she consulted her watch, "By now he could be anywhere from Canada, to Idaho, to nearly Oregon."

"I know," Zack said testily, "I know." he repeated quieted.

Logan sighed realizing just how big a chance he had taken in lashing out against the young Manticore stuck in the truck with him. He had been bluffing, there wasn't much else he could have done to defend himself if the girl had pushed the issue, not bound as he was. But the ruse seemed to have worked letting him know not only the measure of the woman but confirming just how much importance the committee had put on him arriving in one piece. He peeked from below his lids to look at her, she had yet to take her eyes back off him, seeming extremely wary of him. 

Logan wanted to stand and stretch, but was not willing to push the limits of his guard that way, he was sure that in a knock down and drag out fight she would have the upper hand. So instead he sat trying to ignore his numb posterior, and began to think again.

How long had they been traveling now? He tried to think back and remember the trip with Tima out to the base, or the rescue they had conducted to get Max out. It seemed to him that it only had taken a couple of hours, and though he had no watch to confirm it, he was sure that they were well over that time limit. Where were they taking him? 

A pang of fear ran through him, if they were not taking him to the base that they had held Max at, then there was going to be no way for the Brigade to track where he was going, not immediately, if at all. That thought balled up inside of him threatening to make him panic. He took several deep breaths trying to calm his suddenly racing heart. "Damn it," Logan thought gritting his teeth. He had been counting on returning to a place that was fairly close and accessible to his friends, all of his confidence to this point had been hinged on that suddenly very fragile crutch, and he could feel that crumbling from under him.

He was torn from his consternation when he felt a change in the speed of the truck, and was nearly thrown over at the less than smooth stop that the truck made. The girl guarding him was thrown of balance as well, throwing her foot out to one side to keep her from toppling over. Before he had even recovered, the sliding door on the back of the truck was slid open, nearly blinding his dark accustomed eyes with brilliant daylight. He held up his hands feebly shading his eyes against the glare trying to judge who and how many people were standing outside the door.

A shadow stepped into the truck taking two steps into the chill and pausing. Logan could feel eyes on him and yet could not see who was assessing him.

"Torri, where are his clothes?" A deep raspy male voice said angrily, "And why isn't he bound properly?" Logan's lips thinned as he recognized the voice only too well.

He could still see Torri and she popped to quick attention in front of the man, "Sir, my orders were to strip him of his clothes to lessen his threat."

Logan could almost hear the incredulity that must have been on Lydecker's face. That explanation sounded absurd even to him.

"To lessen his threat?" Lydecker repeated slowly in that voice that Logan had heard all too many times before. His eyes must have adjusted because Logan thought he saw Lydecker nod in that "I'm disappointed" way that he did, "So explain to me the shackles?"

Logan saw her swallow convulsively, and he actually found himself feeling sorry for her, "I have no excuse for allowing that sir," She said crisply. She said nothing further, taking the heat for what he had done.

Lydecker then kneeled down next to Logan, "Well now," He said looking Logan over closely.   
His eyes lingered overly long on his left leg, "That explains that mystery," he pointed to Logan's ugly scar, "I think I still see boot prints," he said mockingly. Logan's face deteriorated into an ugly mask of shame and loathing. But he didn't miss Torri's look of confusion, "I wondered where the three of you had managed to get off to that night."

He stood back up, Logan's hateful gaze following him as he turned back to Torri, "Get him some clothes and bind him right this time. And use the waist shackle would you? He won't get his hands in front of him that way." With that he stepped down out of the van, yelling at the top of his considerable voice, "BRYN!"


	13. A Difference of Opinion

Twelve: Difference of Opinion

Bryn raised an eyebrow and slowly turned around to face Lydecker's stormy expression.

"What the hell was that?" Lydecker growled pointing back over his shoulder at the transport.

She glanced over his shoulder in the direction he was pointing and then calmly back at the older man, "What is what?" She asked innocently.

"That…your treatment of the prisoner." He said as he folded his arms angrily across his chest.

She smiled as if she was talking to a moron, "The committee has given me broad powers in regards to this mission."

"Do those powers including stripping the prisoner down and risking his health by putting him on ice? Did that include beating a possible source of information nearly to death? You left one hell of a mess behind soldier. You risked everything that we were trying to accomplish here, for what?"

"Cale is fine, especially if your theory about him is right. The cold shouldn't effect him, it was just to dull his edge," She shrugged, "In Kito's case, he wasn't going to cooperate, and the order stands that all Transgenics outside the fold are to be terminated. I used my judgment about how to take care of him."

"'Terminate' does not mean maliciously torture and then kill. You took pleasure in the pain, Bryn, what the hell has gotten into you?"

"I did what I had to, to ensure the objective was accomplished," She said suddenly her eyes narrowing, "Just as you taught us to."

"_'Did what you had to'?_" Lydecker spluttered "you went _way_ over board, that was _never_ suppose to happen!

"No?" She nodded minutely, "That must be why so many of your projects are still running loose in the world even after twelve years," She said very quietly. "That is why you are still on a backwater little base in the middle of the forest, pretending like you mean something to this project. That must be why you are not on the Committee…and why I am." She spat at him in disgust, "Because I do what it takes, no matter what."

Lydecker took a deep breath straightening sharply, "You ungrateful, self serving bitch! That was all I was to you all those years, a stepping stone to more power? I nursed you back to health, I straightened out your head, and you repay me like this? You've hung out with Renfro way too long girl if you think you can talk to me like that."

"Get over it, Donald," Bryn Growled adding insult to injury, "We...The Committee is seeing you as a liability. You failed to kill the X-10, Tima, when she returned to the base after her eleven year absence."

"She was rescued," Lydecker said firmly, "By Cale."

"Regardless," She snapped, "Then you allowed Kito to escape, with the knowledge about X-5-452's where a bouts. A Transgenic whom had been reported to us as being dispatched when the impregnation experiments on her failed," Lydecker looked down his lips pursing, "And to top it off, he returns with a contingent of Manticore Renegades to free her and your troops are unable to prevent it!" Lydecker pursed his lips.

Bryn went on maliciously, "My objectives are met, every time…But you…You've stepped over the line time and again with impunity. They will tolerate no more…I will tolerate no more. You'd better be glad that they haven't issued a warrant for your death, or else you'd be finding yourself in an unlamented grave right now," By this point Lydecker's jaw had dropped slightly, almost as if he was about to speak. 

"You're dismissed." She said sharply, cutting him off before he could speak, as if he was a junior officer. She then crisply turned away from him.

She left Lydecker standing there in shock and walked the ten feet to Torri. Bryn handed Torri a piece of paper as she said, "Is the prisoner prepared?"

"Yes ma'am," Torri said automatically, looking a little like a deer in the headlights. She had heard the whole exchange between the two leaders, and she was as yet unsure what to think of it. She watched as Lydecker stormed up behind Bryn looking intent to continue their argument. "He is dressed and the shackles are in place." She said quickly as Bryn's eyes narrowed.

"Good get him moved to the transport, we leave in twenty minutes," Bryn said and started to turn away from her.

"Now wait a minute!" Lydecker interrupted, however Bryn continued to ignore him, moving away again.

"But Ma'am?" Torri sputtered. Bryn pivoted sharply to face her, "I thought…I thought now that my work was done…that I would be returning to my permanent duty station back in Washington."

Bryn glanced down at the paper still unopened in Torri's hand, one eyebrow raised. Torri's gaze followed, and she quickly opened and scanned the document. She swiftly met Bryn's eyes again, this time in shock. They were orders transferring her permanently under Bryn's command, "You've done well, I requested that you stay under my command…consider it a promotion. Now get that prisoner moving soldier." Bryn said and turned away.

Lydecker followed her as she made her way toward her own vehicle, and grabbed her arm spinning her back to face him, "Don't walk away from me," He threatened.

Bryn didn't even hesitate, she stepped back and lashed out with a foot catching the older man in the jaw. He landed heavily several feet back, slowly he propped himself on one elbow, shaking out the pain. She stepped back up to him, "I am the committee in this matter and I am your superior officer now, Donald, like it or not. I owe you nothing! Not an explanation, not a thank you…nothing! You'll do what your told, and without complaint." She smiled with a small tilt of her head and then left, entering a black Humvee hidden underneath one of the nearby trees.

Torri stepped up to her former leader, helping him to his feet. He held his smarting jaw as he watched his errant child walking away from him. She had cut her apron strings to him rather spectacularly.

"Sir…" Torri said, as he steadied himself, "These orders…" She held up the crumpled piece of paper in her hand.

"I know," He said softly, "Go with her. Don't get yourself in trouble for any loyalty to me."

"But sir!" she whispered hotly, "I don't trust her…there is something wrong with her."

"I know that too," He answered her, "That's why it would be best for you to go." She started to protest again, "Torri you're not always going to work for someone you like, in fact most of your life will be under someone who irritates you. Go with her…I want you to be the level head, keep her from doing something rash with Cale. I'm not sure that she has the committee's interests in mind…I'm not even sure whose interest she does have in mind."

"Sir?" She said and as he looked up at her she snapped to attention and saluted him, "I hope one day to return to your command."

Lydecker straightened returning her salute as he replied, "I do too, Torri…I do too."

Logan was treated as if he was a mass murderer on his way to trial. He had been relegated to a heavily armed group of soldiers, Norm or Transgenic he wasn't sure, as he was made to dress in a formless, two size too big light blue coverall. His arms were pinned back behind again, only this time there was no way for him to maneuver his hands back to his front. They had utilized the shackle around his waist and locked the chain to the ring at the backside of it. It afforded him little movement and he was unable to exit the truck as they had instructed him too. They had been forced to help him down, carrying him like a sack of grain from the bed of the truck to the ground. He had been momentarily tempted to put up a fight then, kick the man carrying him…something. He thought better of it though, reminding himself that he wanted to live to see freedom again.

He now stood under the open sky and looking up he blinked. It was a bright cloudless day, and compared to the temperature he had been kept at to this point it seemed balmy. Slowly Logan surveyed his surroundings taking in any details that might help identify where he was. They were to one side of a large paved lot, the asphalt was broken here and there over the span of it, and in one or two places he could see faded white lines. About halfway between them and the other end of the lot were several buildings. They were in a severe state of disrepair as was shown by the boarded windows and the weeds proliferating from the cement. Trees surrounded them on all sides with the exception of one end where the road came and went to the seldom-used freeway that was not visible, for the entrance curved away from him and the trees lining the side of it blocked all but a glimpse of light from that asphalt snake. It looked to be an old rest area, one of those conveniences the state had provided when travel cross-country was an everyday occurrence. His mouth thinned, not good, there were hundreds of rest stops along the many different freeways in the state of Washington, he could be anywhere. As long as they had been traveling it was very possible that they were not even in Washington anymore. Logan's heart sank again at the thought of his rescue getting farther and farther away.

A few moments later Torri stormed his direction, anger in every inch of her frame, in her hand she was holding a crumpled paper, as if it was something that she was trying to choke to death. She made a beeline through the surrounding soldiers straight to him, grabbing him roughly by the arm. Logan balked planting both of his feet and ripping the arm from her grasp. All guns came up, Torri's was quickly and firmly pressed into his neck just below his ear. Her eyes were wide in frustration and anger and her lips were pressed tightly together in her fight to regain control.

"I told you not to touch me," Logan whispered hotly, closing his eyes at the feel of the gun barrel being pushed painfully further into his neck.

"Cale… you'd better move your ass, because right now, I don't give a shit what the committee wants with you. I'm your warden now like it or not, and how easy this goes depends on you. You give me any more crap like that and I'll make sure they get their prize post mortem." 

Logan opened his eyes, his gaze darting back and forth but he no longer tried to look at her. She was like a big cat suddenly and he was afraid that if he stared at her she would consider it a challenge and attack him. He swallowed hard, his jaw set in a taut line, and finally he nodded blinking several times with his own half-formed anger. She lowered her weapon as the others covered Logan, and again she roughly grabbed his arm, and this time he made no attempt to pull from the viselike grasp just above his left elbow.

She escorted Logan to one of the Humvees half hidden by the shade of the tall pine trees all around throwing him roughly into the back seat and then physically pushing him over so that she could sit in next to him. Logan awkwardly shuffled himself into a half-seated position propped up against the opposite frame.

They transferred once again and his hope of rescue dwindled to nearly nothing as he boarded the unmarked helicopter for God knew where. Torri again accompanied him in the back, but on this leg of the journey they were also joined by Bryn, who to this point had deemed herself too lofty to mix with the rabble. She sat up front with the pilot and paid him or Torri no more attention than a blank wall. 

Max had told him about Bryn…how Zach had enlisted her help because Bryn had been captured. She had said that Bryn had been sick, some kind of genetic defect that caused her to age rapidly and they had left her for Manticore because Lydecker had said that they could cure her. She had run into Bryn again shortly thereafter, but Bryn had changed. Lydecker had cured her ailment it seemed but had twisted her mind in the process. He had returned her to a near mindless fighting machine, sure she had remembered Max, but she had treated Max as an enemy and it had nearly cost Max her life.

When Max had labeled the dark hared woman as Bryn in the apartment he had been possessed of a sinking feeling, a sure knowledge that all of their plans had come to naught. He immediately didn't like her, and not because she was there to take him away or try to kill Max. He sensed something off, something unstable in her, a danger that was both deadly and unpredictable. Her aura in his head was bright and dangerously red, a constant threat, that told him.

That Lydecker had not joined them on this journey set Logan to wondering; he had been expecting Lydecker to be behind this little escapade. It was obvious now that it was not the case, someone higher up the food chain was calling the shots.

He glanced out the window of the helicopter looking down at the scenery as they gained altitude. Mentally he noted their general direction, by the position of the sun in the sky he could tell that they were going southward. He wondered again just where they might be taking him, and why they felt it necessary to utilize a different facility from the one he had been accustomed to seeing. He looked down at his hands making small motions that belied his nervousness. Perhaps that was the whole point, every Manticore in Seattle knew of the facility now, that would make it a likely target. "Great," He thought, "Now they think of that." 

Despite Logan's nerves the hours had worn him down and eventually, almost against his will, he fell into a fitful sleep. When he awoke it was to the change in the pitch of the rotor blades. His neck ached from the odd angle at which he had slept. He blinked several times trying to get his still sleepy eyes to focus, but he didn't move, unwilling to give away that he was actually conscious. It made it easy for him to look out and down at the scenery again, as distorted as the view was through the curved glass of the window. He looked down on rugged, barren looking mountains framing a small desolate valley. Nestled against the hills was a complex of buildings and a mid-sized airstrip. Running what he judged was east west was a small sliver of a highway or freeway seemingly to either horizon, eerily there was no traffic that he could see from either direction. The complex was the only thing in the area and it was quickly apparent that it was their destination.

When they landed Torri ushered him out onto the tarmac. Logan immediately began to swelter, and Torri looked none to comfortable with the desert weather either. Being born and raised in the Great Northwest he was none too prepared for the arid desert air or the temperature which had to be a good thirty to fifty degrees hotter than what he was used to. He was immediately drenched in sweat, which in turn was quickly stolen from his body by the blow dryer hot air that blasted his skin. Already he was thirsty, something that he hadn't even noticed on the whole of the trip down here, now it was double urgent in him that he get some water.

He slowly looked around him, the base looked forlorn, as if it was depressed to exist in this place. There were about ten buildings near where they had landed and he assumed that they were barracks. All of the buildings were a uniform sand color standing in neat oppressive rows with barely twenty feet between them. Off to one side was an exercise yard that at one point must have been expensively watered to maintain the grass. Now they only existed in dried out tufts struggling to maintain a hold of the sandy soil. There was a red clay track neatly maintained in the middle of the exercise yard and in the middle of it was a variety of exercise gear to keep the troops in shape and out of trouble. Behind the track and to one side was a long building with palm trees lining it's front, they seemed to be the only plant thriving in this arid land. The building was the only one within view that looked any kind of inviting to him.

Off in the distance he could see the wavering outline of large hangars surrounded by many smaller buildings. He frowned, Manticore must have snatched up all the military bases on the West Coast as the government fragmented and the centralized military became a thing of history, each area making up it's own rules and its own military as it saw fit.

He glanced to the young Manticore standing next to him, she seemed as struck as he was by their surroundings, and that is when it dawned on Logan that she must new to Bryn's command. She must have been stationed under Lydecker's for some time, possibly since she was little. Vaguely he wondered what she thought of her new leader. By her expression he would say not favorably.

Marching up to meet their small party was about fifteen soldiers completely clad in long sleeve black fatigues. They wore berets on their heads, and each carried a fully automatic weapon at their side. Logan became hotter just looking at them, and wondered how it was that they were not drenched in sweat or passing out from the heat.

Emblazoned on each uniform over the left breast was the symbol of Manticore, they said Cadre Rojas under each, and Logan wondered what exactly that meant. They stopped centered perfectly on the chopper and executed a right face. The leader, a young Manticore, smartly marched to and stopped in front of Bryn saluting sharply, "Welcome back, Ma'am!" Logan heard crisply reported.

Bryn returned the salute and relayed instructions to the young man, he saluted her again and returned the way that he had come. Bryn stepped directly over to him, looking him in the eyes, "Welcome to your new home, Cale."


	14. What Now?

Chapter Thirteen: What Now?

Three weeks later:

Max sat on the couch staring blankly across the space before her, absently squeezing her index finger as had become habit after two weeks of testing it for feeling. It had been intermittently numb since her brush with death. Sam had said the sensation would pass as the swelling came down, and the bone in her arm began to set. The color was returning to normal in her fingers and she was able to move them more and more each day, Sam had taken the splints off just two days ago. Her arm was healing faster than Sam had expected and he said the cast would probably be removed in a week and a half. Squeezing her finger was now just a nervous tick, something she did when she needed to think. Right now she had a lot to think about.

Zach and Tima had come to her just a day after she had awakened and she had been adamant that they go to the base and reconnoiter Logan's where a bouts. They had beaten her to it, relaying their preliminary findings to her, albeit reluctantly. He had not been delivered to that base previous to or while they were there. They did now want to upset her with the news because they had been fearful she would become depressed or else become rash with her anger and try to go after him on her own. She was in no condition to do that. She had been upset at the news certainly, angry initially, but it was not altogether unexpected. Not where Lydecker was concerned. 

They had since gone back taking turns searching the facility for signs of him, sneaking onto the grounds at odd hours to nose around in the "abandoned area". They had tried for nearly a week and it had availed them nothing except for a few volleys of badly placed gunfire. Their first assessment had been proved right, they had taken Logan to a different facility altogether. The question then became where? Were they still in the state with him or had they taken him back to Wyoming, into Oregon, or someplace they had no hope of finding in the near future? 

Zach, Tima, and Tinga were here, and they were all supposed to be discussing courses of action in their so far futile search for Logan. The three of them were taking turns reporting what they had found. She sat listening absently to them talk about possible destinations and the leads that they had so far. Max couldn't think straight, her heart sinking lower the longer she thought on the predicament

She pushed down a wave of nausea that threatened to send her back to the bathroom for the third time in ten minutes. Her pregnancy was not helping her concentration in the slightest, between the morning sickness, the cramps, and her urges to eat odd things, she was thinking of everything else but the matter at hand. This one seemed worse than the ones that she could remember, but she was unable to tell herself that it was a bad thing. Except for her first pregnancy, which was only a little better than this one, all of her miscarried attempts had been so mild that she normally had not known she was even pregnant until the sharp cramps started warning her of impending loss of the fetus. She wanted to attribute it to her drug induced cooperation.

When she had expressed her concern, Sam had told her that every pregnancy was different, and that just because the symptoms were worse did not necessarily indicate a problem. He had also assured her that the vitals on her child seemed to be just fine, and the fetus was still progressing normally. He had scheduled to see her once a week, due to her previous inability to carry for any real length of time, putting her into the high-risk pregnancy category.

She was possessed even now with an overwhelming need to get involved somehow with the search. She wanted to go with her brothers and sisters to investigate leads, she wanted to take out her frustration on a few scumbags, kick a little ass. But alas, Sam had admonished her to take it easy, keeping her activity to mild exercise to stay in shape and no more. He did not want to put any more stress on the baby than had already taken place. Neither did she, she therefore, begrudgingly, took his advice to heart, letting Zach Tinga and Tima do the "leg-work" for her.

She relegated herself to trying to convince Logan's Eye's Only contacts to divulge some pertinent information in regards to their search, and using Logan's influence with the police department to try to shake something up. Logan's contacts were a skittish lot of people as she was quick to discover, even through the Internet they seemed to sense that they were not talking to Logan. To a person, they had become tightlipped rather quickly, shelling up as she asked questions or rudely cutting the connection to Logan's computer and not even his hacker programs could trace and reconnect her. They were as good as he was it seemed when it came to keeping hidden. She had been forced to reveal the circumstances for her request to the strangers reading on the other end. Once she had made clear to them what was at stake they were a little more cooperative. Unfortunately that outlet of information had yet to bear fruit.

She felt sluggish on the computer compared to what she used to see Logan do. She was good on the machines but she was no match for Logan's Multi Tasking prowess. If she had to say that Logan had a Manticore powered specialty that would have to be it, his mental capacity had far exceeded any Manticore she could name. Maybe exceeded was the wrong word, it more paralleled their ability, applied in different ways. They had always been taught technicals dealing with being a soldier; infiltration, hit and run, a little bit of hacking, some programming, overriding systems, telecommunications and the like. Logan had just applied his talent to something that he was already good at, programming and hacking, and made it exponentially better. Given just about any existing system, including some of the top computers in the country and he could break the code, access any information he wanted and be back out of the system before they had even know there was a breach. He was that fast, and he was that good, she had seen him do it.

Her thoughts again turned to that fateful day and to the events that had happened, and invariably that would bring her thoughts back around to Kito, and every time her insides would twist with guilt as if she was somehow responsible for what had happened to him. 

Kito remained in critical condition in the hospital, having lapsed into a coma. Further X-rays had revealed that the swelling had eased inside his skull, but there were signs of brain damage at the site where the swelling had been the most severe. His face had healed almost to the point that you couldn't tell that Bryn had beaten him nearly to death. But there were no signs of consciousness, and he was unable to breathe without the help of the ventilator. Sam had been unable to give Max any kind of news on whether or not he would pull through nor what condition he would be in mentally if he were to recover. It was too bad too, there was a very good chance that he might have information on where the bases throughout the west might be, and the likeliest candidate for Logan's incarceration. It sounded like he would be lucky to know his own name when and if he ever woke again.

Max glanced up at the faces of her friends, only feeling slightly more comfortable with them here. They were now discussing something amongst themselves, having discovered her to be unresponsive to their queries. 

Max's head came up as something Zach was saying had caught her ear. Her attention focused sharply on him as she said, "Wait…repeat that?"

Zach paused his mouth slightly open, but he recovered a moment later, "I talked to one of the doormen," He paused, "He said on that day he had seen a group of what he thought were police, taking an unconscious man out of the tower. He thought that it was some sort of stake out or shake down. It has been happening a lot here lately he said. Not everyone in the tower district came by their money legally it seems, go figure. But the reason it stood out in his mind was that they put the man into the back of an unmarked delivery van, not a police vehicle. The woman who escorted him was a dark skinned woman with a barcode bleached on her forehead."

Max's eyes widened, "Did he get a look at the license plate?" Max said overly loud, hoping this was the break that they needed.

Zach shook his head, and Max looked away her jaw working furiously, "What about Commissioner Sung? He should be able to tell us if a van had been stolen from the area or something."

Max looked up at her brother smiling a little, "I'll go contact him," She stood quickly, and was overcome by a wave of nausea and dizziness. Two sets of hands caught her when she would have fallen to the floor. She quickly pointed the direction of the bathroom unable to speak as her face flushed red with her pending round of nausea and her friends quickly ushered her there before she spoiled Logan's expensive rug.

The persistent ringing of the phone woke Max from her unexpected doze on the couch. She startled sitting bolt upright, and leaning accidentally on her injured arm. She grimaced as it began to ache and she cradled it to her chest as she leaned over to pick up the receiver. She blinked several times trying to get her eyes to focus. 

"Hello?" She said tersely, trying to stave off another round with her seemingly endless morning sickness.

"Max?"

"Matt?" She asked suddenly completely awake and alert, "Tell me you got something?"

"I've got something," Matt said cheerily, "That lead you gave me, about the truck?"

"Yes?"

"Well it was never stolen, we know that much, at least no one reported it."

"Oh," she said in disappointment, "I thought you said you had something," She growled thinking he was playing a game with her. If so it was very bad timing.

"I do," Matt said, "I just got a call from a friend down in Portland. He received a report of an abandoned refrigeration truck found at one of the old rest stops near the city. It matches the description you gave me of the getaway vehicle, and the license plates are from Washington State. They were going to impound the vehicle, but I told them it was a suspect vehicle in a kidnapping so they are holding off pending our investigation. I am calling because I thought you would like you to come along. I could use your opinion on what exactly happened to him."

Max was silent for a long time, considering Sam's advice and the advisability of a long distance trip in her condition, "I don't know Matt, I'm not supposed to be doing any kind of travelling. Doctors orders."

"Oh," Matt said sounding disappointed, "OK then I will call you from there and let you know what we find how's that?"

"Uh huh," Max answered unsurely, that want to be involved pricking at the back of her mind again.

"I'll talk to you then," Matt said simply.

"Wait!" Max shouted into the headset trying to catch him before he hung up. 

"What?"

She went silent again, rubbing her forehead slowly. She grimaced at the thought of what she was about to do. But, her drive to do something overwhelmed her sense of caution and she finally replied, "Where do you want me to meet you?"

Hours later they arrived by helicopter at the rest stop that held a possibly vital clue as to the whereabouts of her missing husband. They landed at one end of the abandoned lot trying not to do anything to disturb the vehicle that stood starkly white against the evergreen backdrop at the other end of the lot.

Max stepped out of the 'copter, ducking low as she cleared the still slowing rotor blades, Matt was a step behind her as they made their way across the sizable piece of asphalt that separated the two vehicles. She made haste that argued against her condition, eager to find some shred of evidence that she was on the right trail. She stopped short as she neared the truck suddenly shaking unsure that she wanted to look, afraid that she would find nothing, and she was not prepared for that.

Matt stepped up next to her, "You Ok?" he asked her with genuine concern.

"Yeah," She said suddenly meeting his gaze, almost as if to steady herself, "Just a little nervous."

She looked at him for long moments noting how the years had been very kind to him, despite his overwhelming workload as Commissioner of the Seattle Police. His black hair had peppered a bit, and his formerly thin Asian face was a little rounder than it had been when she had known him as a detective. 

His enthusiasm for doing the right thing had not diminished through the tough years on the force. It would have been easy to just give in to the bribery and corruption that had permeated the department since he had been a cop, but somehow his purpose had stayed pure.

Now he was in a position where he could change all that, and he had made a lot of strides toward cleaning the department up. He had become merciless in the prosecution of the corrupt within the walls of his building. That had made him some very strong enemies both within and without, but somehow he had managed to dodge bullets that others before him couldn't manage to.

The back of the truck was open and slowly the two of them stepped up inside of it. Slowly Max cast her gaze across the seemingly empty bed. To one side of the bed area was a short bench bolted to the floor of the truck for stability. Across from her was a small window that looked toward the cab of the truck. All else was bare. Her shoulders sagged as she looked around again, unwilling to believe that there was nothing here.

"I'll go check the cab," Matt offered quietly and stepped down from the bed. She stared absently at the floor wondering again what she was hoping to find…a miracle perhaps. Her eyes shifted as Matt's shadow passed across the small ice etched window between them. Suddenly she was very tired and feeling slightly sick. Slowly she moved to the small bench and sat down awaiting Matt's report about anything found in the cab. She looked down at her hands, chewing her lip and wondering what was next. She cast her gaze around the desolate looking truck. Her brow furrowed as the light from the outside cast long shadows from something across the way from her, showing where the wood on the floor had been creased somehow. Sharp splinters stood at odd angles from the spot casting long spikes of shadow across the floor. Slowly she stood again, moving across to the approximate location of the shadow origin. She stepped to one side allowing the light to cast across the floor again pinpointing where she had seen it. Max then leaned down running her hands across the shallow depressions in the pine planking of the floor. She had a hard time making out what was there, nearly convincing herself that it was just random depressions in the floor, recent but random. When she moved aside again and the light played across it she was able to discern that they were letters or numbers, one set on top of another set, "Seventy-thirty?" She muttered to herself looking at it upside down, "Odds?" No that did seem right, if it was, whoever wrote it was dyslexic. She shifted her body to a position opposite and looking at the wall she had just come from. Her eyes narrowed and she refocused bringing them into sharper focus, "L…C…E…O," She sucked in a sharp breath, "Matt!" She hollered as hope rose inside her again. 

Matt was back beside her in an instant, "There is nothing to identify who had this beast, no registration no physical evidence. The cab is probably the cleanest I have seen in all my years on the force."

Max nodded and then pointed down with her still cast hand to the broken wood before her. He knelt next to her staring down at the letters that had been lightly and hastily etched into the bed of the truck, "L-C-E-O? I don't get it?" Matt said after a moment of staring into Max's suddenly bright eyes.

"No?" Max said shortly then looked down at the letters and pointed each one out saying, "Logan-Cale-Eye's-Only. He _was_ here Matt…he was _here_! He left this here for someone who knew him to find."

Matt's face lit up as the realization hit him, "That would explain a lot about what I found outside."

Matt motioned her outside, assisting her down from the bed and leading her to a place where some dirt had drifted across the pavement. Boot-prints riddled the small pile of dirt, military issue of several different sizes. In the middle of them partially decimated by the milling boots and the still blowing wind was one print that was barefoot, "About four blocks from the apartment as you know we found everything that he had been wearing that day." He needn't say anymore, Max knew, the print was Logan's.

"There is evidence of several vehicles being parked off the side of the lot here under the trees as if to remain hidden from any airborne watchers, including the police satellite. The tire treads are widely spaced from each other, telling me that they were military transports. They drove off but so far there is no sign of which way they might have gone."

They stayed until it was too dark to see trying to find another tire track that would give them an indication of which way the convoy of Humvee's had gone. Slowly as the dark became pitch, they gave up the search and headed back to the chopper, "What now?" Max asked softly.

Matt shrugged as he helped her into the cabin, "Something will turn up, at least we know that they were heading south."


	15. The Way Things Are...

Chapter Fourteen: The Way Things Are…

Max and Matt stayed in Portland for several days after the discovery of the refrigeration truck, trying to come up with the next lead about where Manticore may have taken Logan. The second day they had picked up several sets of the same tire tracks that had been seen at the site where the truck had been found. It had been found in an intensive ground search of the roads near the rest area, on a jeep track barely large enough to take the widely tracked humvee's that Manticore was fond of using.

Matt had gone off to the local Police Department to confer with his friend and to go out to the site where the tracks had been found. They were very lucky, most of the tracks had been decimated by the wind and the weather. But one set of tracks had been caught in a spot of half dry mud that had formed in the ruts of the track and it was that mark that was leading them, hopefully, toward Logan's location. Matt's absence had left Max at the hotel by herself, and she had settled onto the bed, where she now lay on her back studying the ceiling. 

She caught herself pressing her index finger again, and forced herself to stop. Her thoughts were all for Logan, wondering just what they were doing with him now that they had him. Her mind ran rabid with her own memories of countless experiments both when she had been a child and more recently when they had tried to get her to produce a wonder child for them. Countless experiments, introducing different viruses into her and seeing how she would react, breaking bones to see how fast they would set, mind wipes, truth tests. She spent countless hours running, drilling on techniques she would need to be a perfect soldier. All of that in just the nine years she had been in Manticore before her escape.

But how much of that would they apply to Logan? He was not a soldier, never was and never would be, in fact he adamantly disliked and rebelled against authority. He chaffed against authority on a regular basis, and had the entirety of his life. He had fought his status quo, balked against the cushy life he could have had oppressing others. He could have bought into his Uncle's line of work hook, line, and sinker. Hell his life could have been easier for it. But that was not him, his fight for what was right was the one thing that had set him apart from anyone that she had known in her life. There was no ulterior motive with him, just the pursuit of the truth, "And Liberty and Justice for All". She knew that was the reason she was attracted to him in the first place, he was as close to a pure soul as she had ever met, did what was right even when it meant sacrificing his status, or his personal feelings to do so.

In Manticore however, that lack of respect for authority would very likely get him killed in the long run. They tended to correct forcefully breaches of discipline and decorum, beatings and whippings were not an uncommon practice among the company commanders, and they were usually held in public before all the companies. She had a sudden sharp image of him lying helpless in the middle of a dark and dank cell someplace, his face bloody and swollen his body broken much like Kito's was. She shook her head trying to rattle the image out of her mind, "Please let him be alright," She muttered closing her eyes against the tears that threatened again. 

She almost lost herself in her grief when a soft knock came at the door. Max sat up, quickly wiping the tears from her eyes and taking a deep breath to regain her control. She walked slowly to the door looking through the peephole. It was Matt and taking another breath she opened the door.

Matt looked at her and was about to speak when he noticed her expression, "Are you alright?"

"As good as can be expected under the circumstances," she replied evenly, "Please come in Matt," She added looking away and stepping back to allow him entrance.

Matt's look of concern deepened, "I think that you need to come with me." 

"Why?" Max asked sounding both hopeful and anxious.

"We found where the trail led," Matt said simply and turned back toward his car. Max turned grabbing a jacket and the key to the room and then followed him, jumping in the car as he started and threw the vehicle into gear.

Max looked at Matt with some concern, but he ignored her penetrating gaze, driving in silence. Max's anxiety went up the longer that they drove, "Matt what's going on?" she finally asked after nearly an hour, unable to stand the silence.

"You'll see," he said as he pulled into a small dirt lot near the foothills. The lot was in the middle of a small meadow to the east the meadow gradually climbed up the low lying hills. The way had been nearly clear of anything but a few small oak trees that seemed to spring out of the grasses. To the north and south of them the Oaks became thicker, interspersed with an occasional fir tree. The lot itself was hard packed dirt surrounded by the summer browned grasses, and around the perimeter sticking out of the hard ground like bones from a corpse were several sections of what had once had been the perimeter walls of the building. No section stood over a foot high and the road directly faced a walless section of the ruin.

As they got out Matt finally said, "The department was able to trace the vehicles used in the abduction to here," He said spreading his hands and walking toward a spot that had obviously been disturbed by something. 

Max looked down at the twin sets of treads from the front and rear tires dried into the mud at the low point in the road next to the lot. There were several sets of treads set into what had been soft dirt at the time, now only smooth ruts in the road. Only the one set remained intact, "You're sure that this is it?"

"The forensics on the type and wear of the tread matched what we found at the rest area," Matt said nodding.

She wandered around searching the lot and the road for some other clue, "There is nothing here…where did they go…" She trailed off as she caught sight of two parallel equal length depressions in the approximate middle of the lot, "They moved him by Helicopter…" Max said answering her own question in a barely audible voice, "Damn it."

"I know, from this point, who knows where they went," Matt said shaking his head.

Max turned away from the lot and slowly made her way back to the rental that Matt had gotten for this trip. She covered her eyes as she reached the vehicle leaning on it with the other hand for support. Matt walked back to her seeing he shoulders sag heavily and laid a light hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry Max, I wish I had better news," Matt said sincerely.

She nodded not looking at him then slowly moved toward the door of the car opening it slowly and getting in, "Get me out of here Matt," She said in a quavering voice.

Matt chewed on his lip a moment and then nodded, closing her door and moving around to his own, "We'll find him, Max," Matt said trying to encourage her.

She looked at him sharply, "Will we?" She shook her head, "We have NO idea where he went! He could be in Texas by now, hell he could be in Boston by now! We have no way to find out!" She started crying again.

"I don't think they went THAT far," Matt said in a small voice, but Max either didn't hear him or was ignoring what he had to say. They both went silent for long moments, Matt gripping the wheel alternating one hand to the other, "You want to call off the search?" Matt asked seriously.

Max looked down at her hands, and after a moment shook her head in the negative, "I think that it is time for me to let Tima or Zach take over…it is time for me to head back Matt," She said none too easily. "I have the baby to think about…I can't be exposing myself to this kind of stress." 

"OK," Matt said ruefully, knowing and understanding the reasoning of her change of heart, "I'm going to stay, I have a thought or two about how we can find that chopper, and I am going to pursue this to the end. You have my word on that Max, I promise," She only nodded, "When I find something I'll call and let you know. I'll get my pilot to take you back first thing in the morning."

Logan sat in the corner of his cell his knees bent and his tender arms resting across them so that his hands dangled lax beyond them. He was staring blankly at the door across the way from him. His "Cell" was more of a padded room, something you would see in an asylum, starkly white, no furniture, with one small mirrored from the inside window. He was sure they looked in on him on a regular basis, testing his sanity with his isolation. 

He reached up slowly running a hand over his shorter hair, to his great relief they had not shaved his head clean, as he had seen in Max's picture when she was young. It was SHORT though, not so much as a quarter inch of hair on the sides of his head. The top was only about an inch, it was a very military haircut and one more reason he was disgruntled about being here. Worse yet it made all his gray hair stand out starkly. He was in no mood to be reminded of just how old he was getting. They had also forced him to shave his face clean of his trademark stubble. He now looked like a completely different person. "Max would never recognize me," Logan grumbled under his breath.

He had been here since his arrival, a month and a half ago, ushered to a building that he had not been able to see from the tarmac when he had first arrived. It had looked like any other building on the complex, sand colored, three stories tall, lonely. Sparsely dotted along the heavy brick walls were narrow slits of windows looking more like an embattlement than a building. The inside of the building was cool and welcoming after the heat of the tarmac, and he had relaxed a little allowing himself to savor the temperature. They had swiftly moved to the third floor of the building, moving down a sterile bright white hall with identical evenly spaced doors along the expanse. Three quarters of the way to the other end they had stopped him, one of the Cadre Rojas opened the door and his escort forced him into this loony bin. 

The only times that he had been out of here so far was to move the 300 or so feet from his cell to the laboratory that was quickly becoming his second home. There and to the infirmary when those experiments on him went wrong and they had to try to keep him alive, and sometimes just sometimes they let him shower, but not nearly as often as he would have liked. 

They had removed his shackles after about two weeks, after he had proved cooperative. He didn't know why they expected otherwise, what would fighting them constantly get him? More beatings perhaps. He had suffered through a few of those in his first couple days here. He had wiped the floor with his first group of escorts on his first day of going to the lab, all it had gotten him was a bloody lip, some cracked ribs and a hell of a headache, and they still had gotten their samples out of him. He hadn't learned his lesson after that beating however, he continued to test his guards and his new environment. After several rounds of fights with the Cadre he had started cooperating, just to go another day without seeing the infirmary, and that expressionless nurse who would work mechanically over his injuries. It was as if she had seen so much horror in this place, so much pain that she had switched off, doing what had to be done to treat her patients, but with no enthusiasm for her job, and no caring for their actual mental well being. He had even tried to talk to her a few times, most times she would not even acknowledge his statement. Sometimes she would turn her glassy vacant eyes up at him stare for a few moments and then she would return to her work.

He felt a little like a pincushion now, as many times as they had drawn blood, introduced pathogens, or gave him shots of boosters. Twice in the past four weeks he had been taken to the infirmary when he had been unable to fight off whatever crap they had introduced into his system. They were discovering that he had some serious limitations compared to the Biosynth's in their employ. His immune system was not indestructible, and he had not been tolerating the pathogens in his system his whole life as the others had. He had spent nearly two days straight puking his guts out on the worst reaction he had suffered. He had ended up on IV for another four, suffering severe dehydration as a direct result of the experiment, hardly able to stand even after the nausea had dissipated.

They had since then eased up on the frequency and possibly lightened the doses because he had not been sick since that time, that had been just over two weeks ago. More recently they had begun pushing him to the limit physically. He had been forced in the strictest interpretation of the word to run, miles upon miles on a treadmill, testing his endurance. They would push him to do the obstacle course too, always after hours, when none of the other soldiers were up, with decided exception to his heavily armed escort. They had yet to trust him to mingle with the rest of the small contingent of Manticore and Norm soldiers that existed here on the base. They were probably afraid he would corrupt them. 

He came back to this little cell night after night sore and exhausted. And yet he never slept well, he could say only that he was averaging three to five hours of sleep on any given night and none of it restful. He wondered if he was inheriting that trait from Max as well, Max had rarely slept, and when she did it was always in short fits, or cat naps. Another part of him thought that it had something to do with his present surroundings, he was just too wound up being here that he was afraid to sleep, and when he did sleep there were the nightmares to greet him all over again. 

His life had been filled with nightmares after Max's alleged death, and for the four years she had been gone. He had the brief respite from the haunting dreams after Max had returned to his life. Now they were back again, just as vivid as ever, nightmares of Max falling from the roof of a building just moments after being shot by Lydecker's men. Watching himself as he ran to her despite his own pain, cradling her dying body in his arms. He had started awake more times than he care to remember to that last heart wrenching vision of Max looking into his eyes and saying simply, "I'm getting too slow…" before losing consciousness.

And now he had a new chapter to that nightmare, etched just as vividly in his head as the previous, watching Max fighting for her life against her own sister. He was not awake when her fate was determined, and his mind had filled in all of the morbid details for him over and over again. His mind was full of scenes of her bleeding body lying on the hardwood floor, Bryn maliciously kicking her dying form, or wringing her neck until she was dead. Things that he didn't want to think about but unconsciousness brought all of his fears for his wife to vivid life.

Tonight he was not the least bit tired, on the contrary his brain was in overdrive. He was running all kinds of scenarios out in his mind, rearranging and discarding thoughts and half-baked plans in milliseconds. He had already seen some loopholes that a well-laid plan could get him slipped through the security here. But his problems always boiled down to the same thing, once he got beyond the gates where did he go? And how was he going to get there? They had chosen this base a little too well if their intention had been to thwart escape attempts. There was nothing for god knew how many miles, his view of it from the air confirmed that. He would last no longer than a couple of days in the middle of the nothingness he had seen, with no source of water. Escape was out of the question, at least until he could see a little more of the base and find some resources that he could use to further his cause.

He had seen nothing of the two women who had accompanied him here from Seattle since arriving, and with all the trouble they had went through to lose any trace that could be followed, their sudden lack of interest in him was odd.

Logan's eyes moved to the door as he sensed someone looking in at him, his frown deepened as he recognized the signature in his radar, there were six others. The lock turned and the door opened slowly Bryn, Torri and four soldiers entered the room. As the last of them cleared the door it was shut and firmly locked from the outside. Bryn stopped just two steps inside the door, Torri to her left and a little behind her, the soldiers from the Cadre fanned out around the two of them. This looked to be something of importance, at least to their mind. Torri was unarmed now, and dressed in a crisply pressed black fatigue with the Cadre Rojas symbol on her breast, matching exactly the rest of the group she was now with.

"Speak of the Devil," Logan said loudly, "I was just thinking about you," His tone heavy with sarcasm, his expression surly.

Bryn glanced sideways at Torri, who without hesitation sprinted the distance between them, barreling straight for him. He attempted to get to his feet before she got there but was unsuccessful. She grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off the floor slamming him heavily into the wall at his back, all before he could so much as bring his sore arms up to block her, "You will come to attention when you're Commanding Officer enters the room soldier!" Torri boomed looking up into his face.

Logan looked down at her smiling, that caustic streak in him flaring up again, trying to get a reaction out of her, "I'm not a soldier and I don't recognize her authority over me, or yours."

Torri swiftly brought up her knee connecting solidly with his crotch. Logan started to go down, his knees collapsing out from under him, as he gasped for breath and his eyes watered with tears of pain. Torri did not let him fall, however, supporting him by the collar of his coverall, lifting him back up again. "And no speaking without permission!" Torri growled, as she levered him up planting one hand in his abdomen and literally threw him into the opposite wall of his enclosure. Logan felt the wind go out of him, but honestly did not feel the pain of his impact, nothing was getting past the ultimate pain a man could suffer.

Logan rolled onto his back his teeth grit against the pain that was yet to subside. His eyes were open just a slit and he watched as Torri approached him again. "Get on your feet!" She demanded, watching a moment as he tried to breathe, "I said…" She reached for his collar again, "Get on your…" 

She didn't get the last word out as Logan reacted grabbing her outstretched arm and planting one foot in her stomach effectively flipping her over his prone form. She landed heavily behind him and he was on his feet before she was. He turned to face her, ready for what she had to throw at him. She stood for long moments staring at him. He saw her glance at her leader, he quickly gazed that direction fearful suddenly of being struck from behind by one of the others. He was relieved to see that Bryn and the others were just standing there watching, seemingly assessing him. His gaze lingered a bit too long, and he was caught off guard when Torri moved back into the fight. He was forced back as she swung at him, poorly blocking the blow. He sucked in a pained breath at the stinging in his forearm where she had struck his bone. Torri didn't even pause as she jumped up. Logan countered ducking down and rolling under her flying kick and coming up as she landed. He moved before she could turn around kicking out into the back of her leg, hearing her cry of pain as the knee twisted the wrong direction. He moved in, intent on finishing the job when he heard, "Enough!" He stopped only a moment at the authority in Bryn's command, but moved again a moment later.

Logan froze as he heard the safeties come off the weapons, one suddenly very near his head. He straightened, glancing through the corner of his eye at the dark haired woman who was in charge of his fate.

Logan did not notice when Torri got to her feet and closed the gap between them. He was therefore unprepared when she retaliated with a forceful punch in the gut. He doubled over but did not drop as Torri had surely intended, "Torri!" The older woman boomed, "Enough!" She stepped up to the younger transgenic, lowering her voice to whisper grimly in her ear, staring at the side of her head "Or did Lydecker not teach you how to follow orders either?"

Logan looked up at the younger Manticore still facing but no longer looking at him, seeing the redness in her cheeks even through the dark tinge of her skin, "Forgive me Ma'am," Torri said quietly, embarrassed it seemed by her own reaction, "It won't happen again."

Bryn turned her cold eyes his way, "You _are_ as good as they say…I must say I am impressed. The doctors tell me you ability and tolerance are about 90% of a born and bred Manticore. Not pathogen tolerant, but still, I never would have thought it possible for a _human_," She said it as if she considered herself outside that designation, "to possess even a tenth of that talent. That is promising, very promising."

Logan straightened crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at her. He desperately wanted to know just what she was going to do with him, but had too much pride in him to allow her the leverage of his desire to know. So he stood there arms folded across his chest staring alternately at the woman Bryn and her second Torri.

Bryn nodded over at one of the other soldiers who lowered his weapon and walked to her with a package of something. Bryn took it from him and then stepped up to Logan, she slapped the package into his chest and he reflexively closed his arms about it, "Some decent clothes for you to wear. Put them on." She said simply and stepped back.

Logan glared at her for long moments, then looked down and slowly unwrapped the package. In it was a green set of utilities and he looked back up at the older Manticore. He looked at the group surrounding him each face was expressionless.

"Now Cale!" Bryn shouted, causing him to jump despite himself. He glared at her again, but set the bundle on the ground and slowly proceeded to strip out of the coverall he was still wearing even after his month and a half here. Glad to be out of the garment, it was possible that the thing was going to start standing on it's own. He glanced up as he picked up the pants seeing Bryn watching him with one eyebrow raised and a smirk firmly set on her mouth. He quickly glanced away again feeling suddenly dirty and then pulled on the pants. They actually fit very well and he more quickly put the T-shirt on as well. He buckled his pants and then put on the boots they had provided for him to wear when he had arrived. It had been the only thing that they had given him to this point besides a set of exercise clothes. Those were only given to him when they intended to run him.

He straightened again crossing his arms over his chest, Bryn stepped back up to him again. She ran a hand down his left cheek, a look on her face that set his skin to crawling, "I am beginning to realize why Max fell for you." She smiled this time with a look of longing on her face. That dirty feeling he had experienced became worse with the knowledge, he suddenly felt like he needed a scalding hot bath, where a shower would have done before.

"Get away from me," Logan growled quietly, now angry. 

She smiled at his reaction, then shrugged and turned away, "Torri, bring him. It's time he earned his keep around here."

"Yes Ma'am," Torri said crisply. Logan glared at her as she stepped up, but to his surprise she didn't try to touch him, she simply motioned him toward the door. He thought about refusing, but two things stopped him from it. The first was that Torri would surely be ready for that and more than willing to take him down for the humiliation in front of her commander. His second reason was that he desperately wanted out of this room, his mind was starting to justify the "loony bin" surroundings that he was trapped in. 

He started toward the door, marking Torri's proximity to him just one step behind and to the left of him as he moved. Bryn led the way, knocking solidly on the door to alert the guard she was ready to leave. He heard the tumbler open and the door swung inward. The guards fanned out around them as they moved into that long bland hallway and Logan almost expected to take the turn just before the stairs as he had always done, into the laboratory.

He noticeably relaxed when they passed that door by and continued on to the flight of stars leading down to ground level. Logan blinked back tears at the brightness of the day around him, it had been so long since he had seen actual daylight. He paused just a little too long and received a shove to get him moving again, at the moment he didn't mind, the last thing he wanted was to return to that bright white padded room.

He was escorted back to the area he had been when he had first arrived and the group headed for the long building he had seen in the middle with the palm trees lining the front. The only place he had felt was any kind of welcoming upon his arrival. They stepped as a group inside the building. The place as it turned out was the commissary, or he supposed they called it the chow hall. The place was packed with people. Logan was in awe he didn't think this many people existed on base. All activity stopped as the armed contingent escorting a stranger came into the center of the room.

Logan looked around feeling uncomfortable that he was now the center of attention. Bryn looked around at them grimly and then motioned Logan forward. At the motion all eyes suddenly returned to their own trays. "These people are afraid of her," Logan thought to himself. That reinforced his growing dislike, no hate, of the woman who had been charged with the care of this facility.

Logan was escorted through the line getting a tray full of food that on any other occasion would have caused him to look elsewhere for something more appetizing. But at the moment he was starving, and even the runny bland looking food that moved freely about his tray looked like a feast. Bryn and Torri stood off to one side as the rest of the soldiers escorted him to a small table furthest from any exit. He paused a moment looking at the bland faces all around him, "Won't you join me?" He said sarcastically, he expected no reaction, and merely shrugged and sat down.

When his meal was finished he was escorted toward the line of barracks that he had seen on his arrival. They moved him into the lower level of the third building down the line, and what he walked into surprised him. He had been expecting, well something different from this. The room was small, compared to what he had built up in his head of a barracks room. He had been expecting to see hundreds of bunks lining either wall neatly made with drab footlockers at the end of each. Well in that regard it was much the same, only there were eight racks, and the room was only about 100 foot long and forty foot wide. There was a door at the other end and he was thinking that it was probably the bathroom.

There were six others in the room all standing at stiff attention in Bryn's presence. There was a huge disparity in age between them. There was one or two who looked to be Tima's age, one that seemed to be right around his own age and the other three ranged somewhere between those extremes. Two of the occupants were women and Logan immediately became uncomfortable.

"This is Unit 135, your new group," She said to him, and then turned to the board stiff contingent of soldiers, "This is Cale, he will be joining the unit. And this is X-8-222, she will be your new Company Commander, you will treat her with the same respect that you do me," She turned back to Logan, "I expect that there will be no more problems." She smirked, "Play nice!" Bryn said and turned to walk away. The Cadr Rojas followed in her wake.

Torri pause just a moment longer, looking over the group and then looked back at Logan, pointing a finger in his face, "One wrong move… just one." And then she too walked away.


	16. Introductions

Chapter Fifteen: Introductions

Slowly Logan looked around the room watching as the group slowly came to life around him. He turned around abruptly and headed back the way that he had come in. He reached the doors grabbing the handle and yanking on the door, finding quickly that he was locked in. Somehow he had expected that, but it did nothing to ease the frustration at finding himself in a different cage. He backed up a step and firmly kicked the door trying to unseat it from it's hinges, only it didn't budge sending a wave of pain up his exercise sore leg, "Damn it," He swore. Behind him he heard the low twitter of laughter at his attempt as if he should have realized they would do such a thing. His eyes moved restlessly over the metal reinforced entrance and then to the small narrow windows high up the walls all the way around the room. He backed up looking for a possible way up and over, a vent anything that would get him free of this place.

"Give it up man," He heard come from behind him, "There is no way out once they lock you in."

He felt someone approaching him and spun quickly back to face the crowd immediately their center of attention whether he wanted to be or not. The older one, one of the women intercepted him. He looked into her expectant face, and had to suppress his shocked reaction. Luckily over the years he had seen some pretty strange things in Max's company, so it was easier than if he had come into it blind. 

Her face was long, extremely so, her eyes were sunken, and slanted. Her corneas were a bright shade of green, and her pupils were mere slits in the emerald green pools. Her nose was broad, textured, and gray, and her jaw jutted out ever so slightly. Her upper lip was cleft and he could see the very sharp feline teeth poorly hidden by it. Her chin sported a small tuft of gray fur. And now that he got a closer look he could see that her head was crowned with downy fur that blended into her nearly silver hair. She was tall, lean and graceful in her walk. He had to reassess her age though, she was not as old as he was, in fact she might have been younger than Max. The silver of her hair had thrown him a curve on that one. He quickly discovered that she was the most out going of those gathering around her and either had been elected or had volunteered to be their spokesperson.

She sniffed at him a moment, "You don't look special, nor do you smell special. You smell as if they have held you too long without bathing," she said with a slight lisp, waving a hand in front of her obviously sensitive nose. Logan suddenly felt self-conscious about what he was unable to control, "Why are you here, Caa-le?" her slit eyes intent on his own blue ones.

Logan looked down and ducked away from her gravitating toward the racks, he found one about midway down the right row that was unoccupied and moved to seat himself on it. The cat woman did not take the hint moving back near him. She stared at him intently, "Will you not do us, your unit mates, the courtesy of speaking to us?"

Logan looked back up into her face, "I have nothing to say to you," He whispered simply, looking away again and feeling uneasy. His radar gave him no signal of warning, no sign of danger from any of the people now loosely circled around him, but that did not exclude any kind of mechanical device on any one of their persons. Mechanicals, he had realized about two weeks after the rescue of Max from the base in Washington, were invisible to his extrasensory danger sense. That had been why he had been unable to pick up the trap that Manticore had set for the team when they had gone in to get Max out of the local Manticore base.

"So?" One of the younger men said crossing his arms and looking at Logan, "Bryn don't drop just anybody off with us. You have to be different or else you wouldn't be here."

"And just what qualifies you?" Logan quipped at the young man, who promptly shut up. He was young mid teens if Logan wasn't too far off his guess. He looked every bit the rebellious sort. He was shorter by maybe half a head, he was more of a medium build, but showed some promise for filling out later in life. His hair was brown with just a hint of red in it. His face had an Asian influence to it but was not nearly so round as the faces he had seen in Tima, Tinga and Bryn. It was more sharply featured with a strong nose and sharper cheekbones. His eyes were nearly as dark as his hair. He looked every bit a normal kid. If what he said was true there was a reason for him being here as well, and perhaps that was the reason for his own bad attitude

"Don' mind him," The cat woman lisped, "He is always bitter. My name is Shawnee, Shawnee Cross." She extended a hand, which Logan took. He noticed that her hands were soft with the same kind of down that framed her feline face, and her nails were slightly hooked.

Logan's innate curiosity got the better of him as he asked her, "Are you…Manticore?"

She smiled broadly at his question, "Oh so you know something of your captors?"

"More than I care to," Logan admitted nodding.

"No," she said smiling again, "I am from…another transgenic program…Russian actually, they had no fancy name for it, they just referred to it as Government Project 4509. I was traded to Manticore when they were on friendlier terms, back when I was about four, about 1998 I think. Russia led the way in genetic research at the time, having no ethical conscience when it came to experimentation on humans. As oddly the west seemed to possess," she frowned then, "I was one of their base units for the current groups, X-4 up to X-10, they used my genetic markers as a framework for the abilities those groups possess. Now the groups are self sufficient, but they keep me here for an occasional re-base of the genetic material. You know for when the genome wanders too far away from the blueprint." Logan nodded slowly and she glanced away from him pointing to the other woman who if Logan had to guess looked to be about twenty, "That is Mouse," the girl smiled broadly at him and signed something he recognized as American Sign Language. Unfortunately he knew none, but Shawnee kindly translated for him, "She says she is pleased to meet you." Logan looked at her for explanation, "She was born mute."

She then laid a hand on the shoulder of one of the youngest men, "This is Thomas, and behind him is Coo-tton. That is Hawker, and you have already met Caa-ge."

"None of you are Manticore?" Logan said not quite able to grasp that concept. All but Cage shook their head in the negative, "Then what are you doing here?"

"WE are here because we all possess something that these Manticore geeks want to see in their Frankensoldiers." Cage cut into the conversation again from behind the group. His tone was loud and it was angry, and Logan wondered just what had him tied up in such a knot, other than being in this cage. Cage pointed to each of his compatriots as he said, "Her feline DNA, Mouse's ability to fight off any disease, Hawker's ability to talk to animals, Cotton's extraordinary strength, Thomas's telepathy, and you, whatever ability it is they see in you. They suck up us freaks and cage us and then they want to extract it, study it, and then splice it into their 'perfect soldiers'," He raised his hands at his side saying sardonically, "Welcome to life as a guinea pig, Cale."

Logan did not miss the fact that Cage did not mention his reason for being here as the young man stormed back to his rack and flung himself upon it staring angrily at the ceiling. Logan's lips were tightly pressed together as he looked at the young man. In a lot of ways he saw himself in that boy. Slowly he shook his head and looked back up at Shawnee who was still in the same place and still staring at him.

"What?" Logan said wondering why her attention was still on him.

"You have not answered my question, Caa-le," She said drawing out his name again in that odd way.

Logan stood abruptly looking up into Shawnee's face again, "Look no offense, but I really would rather not talk about it right now."

She blinked slowly and shrugged, "Suit yourself, Caa-le, we have a lot of time to get the secret out of you."

Logan smiled slightly annoyed and turned back to his rack, intent on finding some toiletries and making use of the shower. He did not turn back to face Shawnee who still stood behind him, he could feel her in his radar. Opening the footlocker they had provided he found what he was looking for, almost as if they knew that he would choose this rack. He found several sets of uniforms the same size as those he was wearing and an additional set of running clothes, plus socks and underwear, not the kind he was used to wearing, but they would have to do. He pulled out the running clothes, packed them in a small cloth bag he found in the locker along with the soap and rag to wash with. He then stood brushing past Shawnee and her less than tactful curiosity and headed for the bathroom.

He stepped into the plainly tiled bathroom and stopped looking around for the showers, he found them off to his left and turned that way, opening the door and he froze again, "No way," Logan said out loud, and it echoed back at him from the empty space before him. He stood now in what constituted a changing area, black matting was on the floor to keep feet dry and the wall was lined with six hooks, he was peering now between the concrete walls that supported one shower rod with a clear curtain across the front. In the middle of the tan tiled space beyond the changing area stood two small pillars about four foot apart from each other each with four shower heads 90 degrees from each other. He turned back to look at the door for some sort of lock, there was none. That provided him with one hell of a dilemma, especially since there were two women present in this unit, community showers were going to be out of the question…Max seeing him was one thing, but not strangers and definitely not strange women.

As quickly as he could, Logan showered, dried off and dressed fearing any moment that Mouse or Shawnee was going to walk in as see him in his Birthday suit. He sighed his relief as he pulled the shorts on, but was upset because he had been looking forward to a long hot shower to wash off the nearly two months worth of gunk they had allowed to build up on him.

He stepped back into the main area noticing that most of his fellow occupants had returned to their own pastimes. He looked over at Cage who was still staring at the ceiling, and the want to talk to the boy was strong in him. But it definitely did not seem the right time to broach his angry silence.

Shawnee moved back over again, looking at him with a quirking smile on her face. She must have seen his worried look as he had stepped out of the bathroom for she said, "The girls take first dibs, we are faster, because we are fewer, then the men have their time. We still manage to get done before we muster for breakfast. Don't look so put out, Caa-le, we do not all shower at once!" She finished with a hearty laugh and then turned and walked away, "Oh and reveille is at 0500."

Logan laid his things over on his rack and then gravitated toward the small lounge area toward the door of the barracks, where Shawnee had gone with a pad of paper and a pencil, "So just what is it we do?"

"At the moment not a lot of anything… we exercise, we eat, we sleep, and we go to the lab as needed for their experiments. We sometimes do work details in the galley, cleaning dishes and the like, but not often."

"Ok we're glamorized janitors," Logan said sarcastically, certainly not expecting that response, slowly sat down next to her, "You certainly seem OK with the idea of being poked and prodded constantly."

Her eyes were suddenly on him her slit pupils narrowing to almost nothing in her bright green eyes, "And what else would I do?" She asked sharply.

"Live a life?" Logan suggested.

Shawnee laughed wholeheartedly gaining everyone's attention in the room. Logan saw her pupils widen to near black moons with her mirth and felt his cheeks turn red at her response, "Of all the people in this room I am the least likely to be able to 'live a life' as you suggest. I have no delusions about the fact that my looks make me an outcast, even here among the Transgenics. I have known no other life, I have no desire to know another life. I am well treated here; they do not abuse me."

"I'm afraid I can't agree with that assessment," Logan replied with a shake of his head.

"And that is because you have lived your years on the outside as a 'free man', do not think that I have not heard this story before. Caa-ge was right about one thing, Manticore has abducted more than their share of misfits, and I have heard stories both happy and sad about lives that have come and gone from this very barracks. I am the constant here it seems."

"What happened to the others?" Logan asked getting a sinking feeling.

"Most die…from the experiments, from their own special traits or from trying to escape," She finished pointedly, "Do not try to run from here Caa-le," Logan looked up sharply at her, "You cannot hide it, I can see it in your eyes. But I warn you, I have seen more times than I care to mention what happens to those caught trying to escape here. The executions are public, and they are gruesome."

Logan looked down, nodding once sharply. He then looked over at the still fuming Cage and then back at Shawnee, "So what is the story with Cage?"

Her gaze moved over to the young man, "He…is another that wants to keep his secret, and I have been unable to while the story out of him, no matter how charming I am." 

She looked back at him and they both smiled, "He has only been here about four months, when Bryn had brought him here he was in bad shape. Bryn is not kind when it comes to captures."

Logan looked down again nodding slowly, "That much I know."

She tilted her head again looking at him, the question clear to read on her face, "You do not look to be in bad shape."

"Not me," Logan said softly, "Someone else…a friend," He whispered trailing off catching himself before he explained the whole thing to Shawnee. Abruptly he stood up and left the table, feeling an overwhelming desire to be alone.

This time Shawnee did not follow him and feeling cold and even more alone then he had previously he curled up on top of his rack, covering in the scant wool blanket that they had provided him. He could not have said why, but he fell shortly into a deep sleep.

Torri stood at the window of her newest office watching the sun set behind the rugged mountains surrounding the base. She stood at a stiff parade rest watching the nearly lifeless track come alive as the temperatures went down. The days were too hot here, and even the Cadre Rojas, acclimatized to this oven like weather did not operate from noon to three in the afternoon. Bryn would not waste their talent by seeing them overcome by heat stroke. 

The Cadre Rojas was the equivalent to the officer's mess, it had its prestige and it had its privileges. The entire Cadre was Manticore Transgenics, and all of them were charged with their own unit or platoon depending on what class they had "graduated" from, the less the number the more responsibility was placed on your shoulders as Bryn had explained it to her. Bryn was in charge of the base and of the Cadre because she was X-5 and the oldest one deployed on the base. She was backed by another X-5 who was one year her junior and her executive officer. There were about four X-6's, eight X-7's, and thirteen of her fellow X-8's. She had been happy to see them, not knowing what had happened to most of them when Manticore had deemed them suitable for deployment and separated the group. They seemed different from what she remembered though, more reserved, grim and single minded. Most did not seem to recognize her, or if they did they had acted as if they were above her somehow. She thought that odd, Manticore did not forget the people they came up in the ranks with, it was impossible. They were taught to be a team by months upon months of team builder training, learning to rely heavily on one another even as you were taught to think independently and make good decisions to eventually become a leader. She had been taken aback by their reaction. And her thoughts returned to Bryn on that note, sure that she had something if not everything to do with the drastic changes she saw in her comrades, but unable to prove her theory. 

The Cadre Rojas were given the best of the best, all of them, each had a one man room. That room contained a double bed with two pillows a dresser larger than anything that she had previously been allotted. She had not nearly the amount of clothing it would require to fill it. The most staggering thing she had seen was that the room had it's own bathroom. Never in her life had she showered by herself, there had always been whatever unit she had been assigned to sharing the limited shower time. Add to that the fact that she did nothing to care for that room, nothing. There was a staff of maids and janitors on duty full time to keep up after the Cadre. 

Another privilege was the separate messing hall for the Cadre, with nice furniture and even better food. If she was not careful she was going to turn into a fat balloon. Never had she been exposed to such luxury, and she found herself completely at odds with the manner in which she was now living, it almost felt like a dream, only she had never really known this kind of luxury existed and therefore she wouldn't know to dream about it. This was some kind of twisted reality.

The base also housed several hundred regular troops, loyal followers of Manticore, and the people the Cadre were charged with leading into any war. The people that Bryn hoped, with the help of this Cale's unique DNA change, to turn into cheap easily attainable supersoldiers by just transfusing them with Manticore blood. Part of Torri wanted to see that succeed and another part of her, the part that saw their talent and ability as a divine gift, did not want to sully the Manticore name by making half-assed possibly defective soldiers from Norms.

She loathed saying it out loud but she missed Washington and she missed her old commander. She wondered why, yet again, Bryn had requested her transferred to this dry well of a base. The worst came to mind right off the bat, that Bryn was punishing her for being so invaluable to Lydecker for so many years. Torri saw the jealousy under the older woman's smiling face. Almost as if Lydecker had cast her out at some point deeming Bryn unworthy of continuing to work with him, and now she was getting some sort of bent revenge on her for taking that spot away.

But in some twisted way Bryn seemed sincere about her appreciation of Torri's leadership ability and her ability to get the job done. The past few weeks Bryn had been "Taking her under her wing" so to speak showing her how business was run, and what exactly happened on the base.

This base served as the staging grounds for nearly fifty different surveillance operations as well as covert attacks on targets all over the western United States. As it turned out this was the premier testing facility for Manticore using Norms that showed usable genetic anomalies to strengthen the Manticore DNA banks and create new and more viable specimens in different environments. The unit that Bryn had just assigned her in fact was the most recent group of raw genetic material for the Laboratory to process to see what they could use in the next generation of Manticore Transgenics.

Torri moved back over to the desk remembering her conversation from that morning regarding her new and highly unusual assignment. She looked down at their records grimacing, she had a group of varying ages and backgrounds, none of which were military, and Bryn had given her strict orders to keep them in shape and teach them how to fight. These despite her own protest about none of them being what she would deem soldier material. Bryn had just reiterated her order and told her it was with good reason. Torri had taken the hint and promised to do her utmost to see that the orders were carried out, but she honestly wondered if Bryn understood the task that she had handed Torri. She also wondered if Bryn would give her the necessary time to carry out the task…some how she doubted it.


	17. A "Cage" Within a Cage

Chapter Sixteen: A "Cage" Within a Cage

Logan pressed his eyes tighter as he was dragged out of his dreamless sleep, someone was roughly shaking him. With lightning reflexes he jumped up threw a punch at whomever it was that was disturbing him, however the person managed to block his arm and hold back his punch, surprised Logan blinked the last bit of sleep out of his eyes. 

The young man standing before him was short of stature, and his build was quite thin, which belied the strength he was now showing in holding Logan's fist back. Logan relaxed allowing the fist to fall to his side, as he realized who it was before him. It was the man that Shawnee had introduced as Cotton.

He was nearly white blond with very light blue eyes, and in his look he couldn't help to think of Zach, his face was almost the exact same proportions, with high cheekbones and a fairly prominent brow. He could have been Zach's brother, he was young enough he could have been Zach's son. But that couldn't be.

He smiled, "Jumpy aren't we."

Logan turned red embarrassed by his reaction. He had definitely been here too long if he was waking up swinging, "I'm sorry, Cotton is it?"

He nodded, "Shawnee asked me to get you up, she figured you'd be hungry after missing meal the night before last."

Logan looked at him oddly, surely he had heard that wrong. He sat back on his rack rubbing his face slowly, then looked around him noticing that it was still dark behind the high small windows, "What time is it?"

" 'Bout five fifteen, you' got forty five minutes before X-8-222 shows up to roust us out for chow."

"In the morning?" Logan said squinting up at the boy.

"Um, yeah," Cotton replied as if it was obvious, "You've been asleep for nearly two days now, figured you must have had it pretty rough to have been so exhausted."

"I slept that long?" Logan said out loud although the comment had been meant for himself.

"Um yeah," he repeated then he sat down next to Logan, "I thought that 222 was pretty generous allowing you that much. Our last Company Commander was not so nice."

Logan just sat there staring at the floor for a moment realizing that he had a headache developing, and now he knew what for. Cotton continued seeing the look on his face, "We all went through it…weeks on end of restless or no sleep followed by a total crash. All of us except for Mouse, she had no problems adjusting to this place, I think she could sleep walking upright given the chance."

Logan smiled crookedly rubbing his stiff neck. Cotton clapped him on the shoulder, smiling, "Better hurry, the water seems to go cold by 0530," he said pointing toward the bathroom. Logan looked a bit apprehensive, "The women are long done and the rest of us already had ours," He looked a Logan sincerely, "And if it's one thing we respect is what little privacy is given us. Its all yours."

Logan showered, dressed and returned to his bunk, sitting back down he set his head in his hands trying to stave off the depression that was starting to settle in again. Somehow he had managed to stave of that extremely common ailment the last six weeks. Today the reality of his situation had hit him rather hard. There was going to be no rescue, if it had not come by now it never was, that left him feeling alone. He was now going to have to rely on himself to get out of this…if there was one ounce of determination in him it was to keep this visit to Manticore as short as possible, and to keep them from turning him in the process. He would need help however, because there were things he needed to know before he could make a break, but just whom could he trust?

Slowly he looked up taking in the activities of his "unit", most were doing as he was sitting on their racks and waiting, for something. Shawnee was preening herself glancing at him on occasion, but mostly her attention was on her hair. Hawker was staring out a window with a distant look on his face, while Cotton neatly made his rack. He looked around a bit before he found Mouse who was sitting at the lounge table nearest her rack doodling on the small notepad that she carried with her at all times. Cage was doing much the same as he was, sitting on his rack, but he stared unflinchingly at Logan, measuring him. Logan returned his gaze for long moments and then blinked as he heard a key being inserted into the lock. All other activity stopped as all of them, even Cage swiftly moved to the foot of their bunks standing at stiff attention much as they had when he had first been brought here. Logan did not move as Torri marched into the middle of the room looking over her new unit. 

She stared at him saying sternly, "On your feet Cale! Get on the line!" Logan didn't respond staring icily at the stout woman. He hoped she would come at him again, he felt like another fight today, but she just nodded, "On your feet!" She repeated. Logan's eyes moved from her a moment seeing looks of fear and incredulity coming from the others all staring at him through the corners of their eyes, "Fine," She said succinctly and turned away from him. That buoyed him into thinking he had just won the contest of wills. 

"Because Mr. Cale doesn't want to be a team player…" and she turned back and stared him right in the face, "We will skip breakfast and move straight to the morning PT." 

Logan's eyes widened, and he started to protest, but she cut him off, "Fall out!"

Logan reluctantly followed them out feeling small as all of them, even Shawnee glared at him angrily for denying them one of their few luxuries in this place. His gut twisted at the thought of cow-towing to his oppressors, but if there was one thing that he did not want to be responsible for was getting all of them punished for his own stubbornness. The rest of that very long day went without incident, Logan doing as he was ordered for the benefit of the people in his unit. They spent the entire day working out: running, calisthenics, obstacle courses, sparring…though some in the unit looked completely lost on the subject, and then more running. They managed to get a lunch, but the exercise had reduced his appetite and by the way the others were picking at their meals they were about the same. They were made to sit at the same large round table in the Mess while Torri stood over them. Conversation was not only minimal it was nonexistent, and Torri's presence was only part of the reason for their silence. Logan knew that the unit was probably going to stay upset with him for quite some time over his actions this morning and the resulting punishment.

Torri turned them over to another Cadre member after their lunch, probably so that she could eat, but their regime was no lighter for the commander change, and no one noticed when Torri returned to watch them circle the packed dirt track. Logan was glad that he was in good shape, but he was quick to notice that most of the others were not in his league when it came to that. The only one who seemed to be in better shape than he was Cage, who was actually ahead of him by nearly a sixteenth of a mile. It had been that way all day, and Logan had gotten a measure of the boy that startled him. They had been paired off for sparring and had ended up the center of the groups attention when they had matched each other blow for blow in a steadily more heated match. By the end Logan was no longer pulling his punches because it seemed Cage was trying to kill him. His were not the natural abilities that the others were here for. He fought like a Manticore, yet staring at the back of his neck had proved to him beyond a doubt that he was not of any generation to come out of Manticore. His curiosity was piqued, just where did he come by such a formidable set of talents.

He stared at the boy as something picked at the back of his mind. There was something about him, something familiar, something he couldn't pinpoint. 

Logan began to lap some of the stragglers in his group and just as he was about to catch Hawker, the boy collapsed on the infield. Logan slowed quickly as he neared Hawker stopping before the boy.

"C'mon," Logan said grabbing for his arm. Hawker glared up at him panting hard and pushing his arm feebly away. Logan insisted lifting him up bodily and throwing one of his arms over his shoulder saying, "You need to keep moving or else you'll cramp up."

Hawker started to struggle, but soon gave up weakening quickly. He looked up at Logan with bleary eyes squinting as he asked, "_How_ old are you?"

Logan laughed shortly as he made the young man walk, "Don't tell anyone, but I'm Forty-two," he whispered in a conspiring tone.

"Ain't no way," He panted, shaking his head. Logan just shrugged and continued to walk with the boy until his cramps subsided. He was American Indian by the look of him, with dark skin and high cheekbones, his hair was ebony, cut as short as Logan's was. Hawker stood just under his own height and was slightly thicker in build.

They continued to walk as Hawker slowly started to recover from his overexertion. Logan frowned as he saw Torri angling for him and the boy. He tried to ignore her approach, but it was obvious to him she would intercept him, long before she arrived.

She stopped them hands on her hips as she said, "Let the boy walk on his own."

Logan stopped looking at her angrily, but before he could protest Hawker had removed his arm from Logan's shoulder and started to back away from them. Logan turned and watched the boy go staggering slightly back down the track. Logan then looked back at his Company Commander, "You don't have to do this… I'll do what you want, just stop punishing them."

She laughed shortly at him, and Logan felt his hackles rise, "You think this is about you? About this morning?" She shook her head slowly looking down, "You've been the center of your own rich universe too long, Cale. This has nothing to do with you or your stubbornness. They're in training to be soldiers, and so are you."

Logan shifted to the other foot uncomfortably, "None of us are soldiers," Logan repeated, "We're not prepared for this."

"You will be, now get your ass back on the track!" Torri finished in a loud commanding voice.

He felt that streak in him start to rise up, almost started a war of wills with her, but for the sake of his new comrades he firmly squashed the desire to bait her. He, totally against his grain, popped to attention saying in a toneless voice, "Yes Ma'am." Turned away and started to run again.

The lot of them was famished when it came to dinner, and had they been allowed to get seconds on their meal they would have. There was still little or no conversation from the group. And it took all the dogged determination they had in them to march back to the barracks for the night.

Logan moved to his rack after watching them shut and lock the door behind the group leaving them to themselves in their prison cell. He sighed heavily, stripping down to just his shorts as he tried to cool off. 

He watched as Mouse moved by her rack as if in slow motion, he smiled and nodded at her, which she returned with a wan smile of her own. Of them all she looked the most miserable from the activities of the day. She was a slip of a thing, probably only five foot two with long dishwater blonde hair that hung loosely about her thin frail looking face. She had startling light blue eyes that were intense and innocent all at the same time and her nose and cheeks were awash in light freckles. She looked out of place in the uniform that she had been provided, as small as the uniform was it was still too large on her petite frame.

The only one that Logan thought might have neared the misery of the young girl, was the man that Shawnee had introduced to him as Thomas. He was tall and lanky, standing just over Logan's own height, though he was probably about fifteen pounds lighter. His skin was the color of milk chocolate and his short hair stood up in tight curls on the top of his large head. As tall as he was his head was disproportionate to his body. He had large dark eyes that seemed to see everything, he had a knowing air about him. That would make sense though, he was the purported telepathic. Thomas glanced his directions suddenly and Logan abruptly stopped that train of thought, suddenly very conscious that he may have inadvertently offended the young man with his thoughts. That turned into a very insecure feeling about what the boy could pick up from him.

The anger that he had been met with after his failed attempt at insurrection, seemed to have eased, but Logan was unsure if they would forget so easily what his lack of action had gotten them. Time only would tell.

Logan mustered enough energy to gather his things and shower for the second time that day and then retired to his rack. He was tired, in mind and in body and he was looking forward to curling up in his rack and forgetting this day had ever happened. He rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes and again fell asleep. 

Logan started awake bolting upright in his bed, breathing heavy and sweating again. He blinked several times as the adrenaline flow in his body slowed then looked around him hoping he had not cried out this time as he had been known to do. It was dark and quiet, no one around him stirred, seemingly undisturbed by his abrupt rousing. He knew with absolute certainty there would be no more sleep after another one of his reoccurring nightmares about Max. Trying anyway, he rolled over knowing that if tomorrow was anything like today had been he would need all the rest that he could get. As it was he tried so hard that his headache came back, sighing he sat back up and quietly got out of bed. Moving to the lounge area, he sat down and stared through one of the small windows that looked out at the small section of stars that were shining brightly. That was one thing that had impressed him about the dessert, the clarity of the sky, at night it was spectacular. He could see the faded wash of white that made up the trillions of stars of the Milky Way, brightened by his night vision.

Logan blinked as his radar caught the movement of someone in the room approaching him. Logan swiftly looked over locking his gaze on Cage who paused a moment as if he had been caught in a spotlight. He moved again a moment later pulling out the other chair and sitting down.

Logan wanted to ask the boy what he wanted but something kept him from it and he ended up just staring. Cage stared back at him his mouth set in a grim line. "You were stupid for going up against 222 like that, Y'know." Cage began.

"Yeah well I'm hard headed like that, comes from being a free man for forty two years. I don't take authority well."

"I thought the same way as you when I first got here. Got the shit beat out of me for it." Cage said suddenly looking away. Pain crossed the boy's face then, and Logan wondered just what he was thinking of. Cage looked back at him and asked, "Your not afraid of X-8-222?

Logan looked at him sternly, "Should I be?"

"She scares me, anybody under Bryn has to be just as crazy as she is," And in that statement Logan was reminded of just how young the man was.

"I don't know, she just came here from Washington, She doesn't seem to like Bryn much to me. She was my escort down here, the two of them do not see eye to eye."

Cage got up and slid his chair a bit closer as if he was afraid of someone overhearing them, Logan followed him with his eyes, stopping Cage in his tracks once again.

"You're too old to be Manticore," The young man stated.

"I'm not Manticore," Logan said succinctly.

"Then who are you?" Cage asked hotly.

Logan reached his hand across the table, "The name's Logan."

"So what is your story?" Cage said, shaking his hand quickly, then diving in to what obviously had been eating at him since Logan arrived, "You're abilities are not natural attained. Your fighting skills are too well honed and you are too old to be from _any_ Transgenic Program, much less from Manticore."

"True," Logan answered not volunteering anything.

"How?" Cage asked bluntly.

"I'll tell you what" Logan said slyly, "How about a quid pro quo?"

"A what…"

"It means if I tell you why I am here you have to tell me the same about yourself. You're the only one in this group that has anywhere close to my ability, Manticore abilities, that doesn't have a bar-code on the back of his neck."

Cage leaned back a moment, looking as if he thought the price was too high, looking as if he was going to run. After a few moments his body relaxed again and Cage leaned back in saying, "All right."

Logan looked down a moment cleaning one nail as he said, "My wife is an X-5."

Cage's eyes widened unexpectedly, then his expression quickly smoothed over, "Now just how would your wife being Manticore have anything to do with your abilities?"

Logan leaned over the table a little weaving his fingers together tightly, "She gave me a transfusion once when I was near death from blood loss. Somehow…her DNA rewrote my own, and I steadily started inheriting her abilities. First I was able to walk, then see in the dark, and it just escalated from there."

"Wait, wait, what do you mean walk?" Cage said incredulously.

Logan looked down a moment and then back up at the young man smiling, "I guess I neglected to mention that didn't I. The surgery that left me near death was to remove the remaining bullet fragment from my shattered spine."

"You were…"

"Paraplegic, yes I was." Logan finished for Cage.

"Whoa," Cage said.

"That's why I'm here…Lydecker, Bryn and the committee want to see if what happened to me could be duplicated."

"To make cheaper versions of their Manticore test tube babies," Cage whispered incredulously, "By using humans."

"Yes," Logan confirmed for him.

"Where was your wife when you were taken?"

Logan looked down again chewing on the inside of his lip, "She was there," he went silent a moment.

"And?" He said sharply.

"And I don't know…" He replied sharply, "The last thing I remember, she was in a fight for her life with Bryn. I…I don't know if she made it."

Logan went silent blinking, trying hold back the tears at the thought of what might have happened. A moment later he was back under control staring intently at the younger man in front of him. Cage looked to him like he was about to balk, but after a moment he took a deep breath, "My mom, she was Manticore, only she never told my dad. It wasn't until Lydecker found out about me, about the abilities I was developing that the truth was told and only because she had to expose herself for what she was.

"They tried to get to her through me, introducing me to some kind of virus that only they had the antidote for, and then traded my health for my mom," He paused a moment, "The deal went south, at least for Lydecker and that bitch Renfro. Mom got free and then found us in Canada."

Things started clicking in Logan's head as he sat and listened to the boy speak. The pieces he was giving were forming a very familiar picture in his mind. There was still a possibility of coincidence many of the other remaining X-5's were never introduced to him. They had dropped under the radar from everyone, and had never surfaced again. Logan focused again on what Cage was saying, seeking confirmation to his suspicion.

"After a while, when they had fought for and got extradition status from Canada we moved back into the states setting up in a small California town in the hopes of escaping attention. And was fine until about four years ago, when we were discovered and driven from our homes. Mom stayed behind, trying to prevent one of her fellow Transgenics from falling into a trap," He looked down, "Dad and I never saw her again. I think she, like your wife, may be dead, either that or she doesn't care."

"Cage…I knew that name was familiar," Logan whispered, "You're…Tinga's son." Logan said in revelation.

Cage's eyes widened, "How do you know that name?"

Logan leaned back a moment, "I was the one who got Tinga's…Penny, her Husband and Son papers to get into Canada. I met you when you were like four or five."

"You?" Cage said staring hard at him trying to make himself remember. Logan only nodded, and Cage looked down shaking his head, "I thought I had seen you before, just couldn't remember where."

"So how did you end up here?" Logan asked. 

"Dad and I spent the last four years on the run, somehow managing to stay one step ahead of Lydecker's people. Four months ago we were at a roadside inn on the coast. We'd been there a couple of weeks and no sign of pursuit lulled us into a false sense of security. That is when Bryn and her Cadre moved in on us." He stopped abruptly as his face pinched hard, "Dad did what he could to protect me, guarding the front as he told me to run out the back." He stopped again, seeming to choke a moment as tears started to fall from his eyes.

"Cage, what happened to your dad?"

He looked Logan in the face, the hurt expression deepening, "They caught me as I ran out the back door, and what little fighting my Mom had taught me was useless, they beat me into submission. They dragged me back into the room where we had been staying and…. And…"

"Cage?" Logan said softly.

"Bryn made me watch as she broke his neck, effortlessly, with no remorse on her face. That heartless bitch took my Dad from me. He was trying to defend me from them, keep me safe. And she killed him." He sniffed and straightened suddenly strengthening himself with a inner resolve, "Now I have no one but myself to rely on…I'm gonna get outta here, one of these days I will manage it, and then that bitch is going to pay for taking my family from me."

"She hasn't taken all your family," Logan replied.

"What do you mean?" Cage said suspiciously.

"I mean…Tinga, your mom, is still alive," He saw Cage's eyes widen in shock, "She's been looking for you since she lost you in Yreka."

"Alive?" Logan nodded. Cage looked away whispering, "Alive…"

Logan looked away himself glancing at he high windows again and then at his watch seeing it was about three thirty in the morning. Slowly he stood up tapping Cage saying, "I think we had better get to bed ," Logan said softly, "Daylight is going to come way too early as it is."

Cage just nodded and moved back to his own rack mirroring Logan.


	18. The Trail's Cold

Chapter Seventeen: The Trail's Cold

Three months later…(Max's 6.5 month of Pregnancy)

Max moved slowly around the spacious apartment, hearing her own movements echoed back to her. She grimaced as her belly tightened, laying one hand on it to try and still her steadily moving baby, "Feels like your running a track there," She whispered softly, lovingly. This was the longest she had carried any child and she found herself having to squash the hope that was rising inside of her for fear of being let down yet again. She prayed again that her luck would hold with this pregnancy, that she wouldn't feel the pain that had always told her before when she was about to lose it, "Don't even think it," She admonished herself. 

Sam had said that the baby was developing even better than he had hoped and no signs of deformation existed in the fetus. And he had said that if everything went well she could expect to deliver anytime, and the baby would be able to survive. He wanted to reestimate her due date, but decided against it, unsure whether it was her genetics and coincidentally Logan's, or whether he had made a mistake when he had measured the baby. Either way, the baby was a big one. 

She had thought that this was going to be another long and boring day. She had gone shopping early on to get some fruit and such to restock the place. When she had returned she had been greeted with a huge surprise.

Somehow, and certainly that somehow was Bling, Original Cindy had set up a surprise baby shower, and all of her old friends had shown up. She glanced back at the stack of unwrapped gifts sitting on the dining table. The baby had nothing to want for now, somehow her friends had come up with some serious cash and gotten everything that Max needed to get her and her baby started. She had every thing from a bassinet to clothes and food, "You my friend are set for a while." She muttered happily. 

OC and Kendra had stayed with her after the rest had taken their leave. They had sat and talked for hours about the good ole days of Jam Pony and Crash and all the friends that they had not seen in years. It was just like old times…well mostly. Kendra was now married to Walter, the cop that used to shake them down every month for money. They had two kids since Max had last seen her a boy and a girl, three and eight respectively. She had thinned considerably, looked great and she seemed happy, though the thought of the two of them together still sent shivers down her spine, it was still weird to her even after all this time. 

Original Cindy had not changed a lick, still after the tight-assed white girls and unfortunately still working at Jam Pony. She had said that Normal was still in charge and as ornery as ever. Herbal and Sketchy had gotten together and started their own delivery service some ten sectors away. While OC would have preferred to go and work for the homey's at "Flying Low", she found it too far from the action and had stuck with her job. She had said that there was not nearly as much flavor there as the set that hung out at Crash. Max smiled to herself.

She had relayed to Max that Sketchy hadn't changed a bit, well maybe a little more like Normal really but was still the diz-brained schemer she still remembered. It surprised Max that Sketchy had taken on the responsibility to start a delivery service considering his lack of scruples and just incorrigible behavior. But he managed it somehow and was actually making a profit from it. He was finally coming up in the world the way he always wanted to. 

Herbal had finally married his girlfriend after so many years, probably on her threat of leaving him after seven years of living together and not having any legal claim. They were still newlyweds it seemed and OC said that Herbal was happier than she had ever seen him.

She smiled at the remembrance of the last several hours fully realizing that small talk with good friends was something that she desperately needed after the last several months of hopeless search for Logan.

They had been careful not to mention Logan to her or within her earshot, and sometimes that was a very conscious effort. So much of Max's life had revolved around Logan and very early on. She knew they were all thinking in that direction. Zach, Tinga and Tima while trying to be helpful had only succeeded with stressing her out further in regards to the cold trail they were trying to reconstruct.

She smiled wryly as she thought of Zach and Tima, what an odd couple. Zach the straight laced Military man, and Tima, the Rebellious Loner. They were perfect for each other, Ying and Yang and they were very much in love. She was happy for Zach, glad that he finally had someone he could pour all of that caring and passion into and have it returned tenfold. 

And she had been wrong, she had thought that Tima would eventually shy away from his Militant manner, instead she had seemed even more attracted to him because of it. Logan had told her just how much Tima had wanted back into the fold at Manticore when he first met her, craving the order and discipline in her life when she had so little of it. 

Now Zach? He had just needed a little chaos in his life, just to balance him out. He had mellowed a lot and, she thought she was going to have to thank Logan for introducing them. She sobered as her thoughts settled on Logan again and the silence in the apartment pressed in on her again. She wished the gang had not had to go.

They had been smashingly unsuccessful in finding her husband. Matt had assured her that he was still in the Western United States someplace but could not give her any good evidence to support the boast. He said he had clues, but they were circumstantial at best. He had been able to wheedle some information out of the air traffic controllers about the Helicopter that they had been trying to track. They had been able to confirm that it was headed south, but that was all that they confirmed. Matt had used the heading information that they were able to provide him to further investigate. And that was as far as he had been able to get. The Controllers south of Portland were unwilling to assist him with any information concerning the helicopter citing all kinds of FAA rules about divulging that kind of information. Even Matt's argument about obstructing a kidnapping investigation did nothing to thaw them out.

He had come back and given them the heading drawn out on a map and there were many bases within the line of that heading, but they all knew that the further South the line went that the rate of error went up exponentially.

Unnerved by the silence she decided that she was going to the hospital and visit Kito again. At least there was some background noise to comfort her there, she kept forgetting just how insulated the walls of this apartment were. She grabbed her jacket and quickly left.

She found herself sitting next to Kito as she had done so many times in the past few days. It was the only company he was bound to get, really. He had no family, he had forsaken that when he had opted to rescue her, and though the others knew Kito it was not well enough to feel comfortable sitting at his bedside while he was in a coma. Not that she felt comfortable about it herself, it was awkward to talk to an unconscious person day after day, wondering if it has any affect at all on the patient.

She looked at the younger Manticore. He looked peaceful, the first time she had seen such on his face at all, he had always looked grim, determined or downright unhappy since he had freed her from the prison that was Manticore. She knew he regretted his own decision to leave there, she knew he felt lost and out of place and Max empathized with him remembering her own first years outside of Manticore's influence.

A bandage, one that Sam had instructed that only he was to remove, very carefully covered his barcode. He had recently gotten on the paranoia bandwagon about spies among the staff. The last thing he needed was storm troopers breaking down the doors to retrieve his still very sick patient. Kito's face was now untouched by the scarring that had been heavy on his face when he had first been brought here. The only evidence he had ever been subjected to a near deadly beating was the slight lump on the bridge of his nose. His arm was no longer cast, the bone long healed but still showing the scar where the bones had worked their way through his skin.

Sam had said that Kito's vitals were improving slowly. The swelling in his head had eased and the tissue damage had been less than he had estimated. Yet he remained unconscious, unresponsive to external stimulus. He was still unable to breathe on his own, the mechanized respirator keeping him alive until such time as his brain took over the autonomic function of breathing for him. Just looking at the endotracheal tube made Max gag. 

She looked up into his slack face, leaning closer, tucking her elbows into her waist and clasping her hands together over her knees. "Why won't you wake up?" She asked squinting at him, at the back of her mind she knew that Kito could help them determine Logan's location, "Doc say's your fine physically. I need you to wake up. We…I need your help to find Logan…If only you could tell us what you know. I know you have information about where they took him. I've tried…I've tried so hard to find him on my own, we all have. The trail's cold. We are searching out facilities all over the West Coast doing recon to find out if they have him there. But God that is a slow process, and I don't know how much longer I can do without him. You're the one resource we have left and we can't even access the information you have." She stated desperately. Abruptly she leaned back, frustrated and feeling even more silly. Like she was going to wake him on will alone. She shook her head again, smiling grimly, even if he did, there was no way he was going to be in any kind of shape to tell them anything. 

For long moments she sat just staring, not really seeing him. Her thoughts raced through her head reviewing the roller coaster of her life, wondering when the people in her life were ever going to catch a break.

She wondered also why it was that Kito lay here motionless, suffering a head trauma, possibly a vegetable for the rest of his life. Her own fall was nearly as severe as his beating had been yet she had been spared, she had suffered no consequences save the scar on her face. How was it that she was so special, that she deserved to live while Kito withered away in a hospital? 

"I'm sorry, Kito, for ever getting you mixed up in this mess." She said sadly, "I'm sorry for a lot of things, including the way that I thanked you for your help when I saw you again."

She smiled laughing at herself for never having the courage to say these things to him when he was still with the world. 

"Well," Max said sighing grandly, "I think I have taken up enough of your time for today. I will come again soon, I promise, get well Kito."

With that she slowly turned away. As the door shut behind her in the darkened room one finger on Kito's hand twitched.

__

Smoke obscured the tree where he was hidden, he heard sound of the other kids passing under his perch smiling to himself for his own ingenuity. He was up high and were it not for the smoke he could see everything. A definite advantage, the edge he needed to win the game.

Suddenly a thunderous clap sounded near him and his perch shook violently, and he had a momentary feeling of weightlessness as he was flung out into the air. Then gravity returned and he knew he screamed as he hurtled toward the earth. His vision grayed out as the ground reached up suddenly and grabbed him….

Bright lights were all around him, he was surrounded by doctors in white smocks. His eyes were open he could see everything around him. He was unable to move, not even to blink over his suddenly dry eyes. He tried to tell them that he was OK, but they did not seem to hear him. His heart leapt as he saw the device come out, endotracheal tube, and with it the tool they used to insert it. He tried to protest, again to no avail as his head was tilted back and the cold metal device was inserted into his throat to ease the insertion of the tube…

He started awake to a feeling of gagging, accompanied by a sound like someone gargling and it took him a moment to associate the sound as a product of his choking. Something hard and painful kept his throat open forcefully and he coughed once, seeming to feel every inch of the tube that had been inserted into his airway, he gagged again, his eyes watering from the pain. His body spasmed once causing him to flop in the bed as a fish on land would. 

He willed his arm to move intent on removing the source of his discomfort, and he felt it jump and twitch with the confused signal his addled brain tried to send to his fingers. He concentrated harder trying again to get at the thing that was continuing to make him gag. Twitching again it slowly raised off the bed at his side, it felt leaden detached from his body, he could see it move in his still blurry vision but there was no sensation associated with the act. Eventually the hand reached his mouth practically slapping himself in his awkward try to grab the tube. Three tries later he latched onto it pulling it with feeble strength. He was heartened to try again when he felt the pain as it gave a little, and wrapping his still weak fingers around it he tugged some of his strength returning and his throat steadily released its grip on the tube. His gagging continued as the tube came free of his sore and swollen throat. Finally, it was out and he ended up trailing a line of mucus from his mouth across his front and over the railing on his bed as allowed it to roll off his strengthless fingers, where he heard it plop dully on the floor.

He coughed heavily and then gagged, somehow managing to roll to one side before the contents of his stomach ended up all over him. Granted there wasn't much there, but he still didn't want it on him. That act took the last of his strength and he lay there on his side for long moments staring past the monitoring devices all around him to the curtained window. He swallowed convulsively against the feeling that there was something still in his throat, reminding himself that the irritation was gone and that his throat felt that way because of the swelling. How did he know that? Again his brows knit at this new puzzle piece.

His vision was still blurry and he discovered that his depth perception was skewed when he reached for one of the monitors seemingly right in front of him, only he was unable to lay his fingers, even with his arms outstretched, onto the device. He blinked several times alternately closing one eye and then the other trying to judge the distance to that elusive piece of equipment that was suddenly his center of attention.

His body jerked sharply at the sound of a door swinging open behind him, and he wanted to roll back over and face the threat, but his body had betrayed him, no longer responding to his wishes. He lay there his heart racing trying to determine how close whoever had entered the room was to him. His eyes shifted as a blob of white came around the end of the bed and approached his motionless form. "Who are you?" he wanted to say, but an indiscernible sound came from his tortured throat. "What's wrong with me?" He wondered suddenly, his thoughts were working why wouldn't his mouth?

A face swam into his view, a man's face, he was older. There was something-shiny hanging from his neck drawing his attention a moment away from the face. He returned his wide scared eyes to the face as it leaned even closer to him. He was breathing heavy and fast as he stared at the man, wondering who he was and what he wanted with him. He saw the man lift his arm up checking something about him, momentarily he set the arm back down again. A hand reached into his field of view lifting his eyelids and a bright light shone in it making it water some more, it was repeated with his other eye. There was sensation as if some insect was crawling against his scalp and he realized the man was running a hand over his head, checking for something, but he was unsure what.

The man spoke, or so he thought, what he heard was a bunch of deep toned noise, and he wrinkled his brow again at the man. The man stepped away from him momentarily, and he heard a whooshing sound nearby. The man returned and sat by him, and suddenly there was something cool being set against his face and it occurred to him that the man was probably cleaning up the mess he had just made of himself. A few minutes later the cool object was taken away and he felt something set against his lips. He looked up at the man some of the fear coming back into his expression.

The man spoke again, "…water." He heard clearly out of the droning of noise from the man's mouth. He was more than happy to drain the cup closing his eyes at the blissful feel of the cool liquid as it slid down his throat. The small amount the man had offered him was gone all too soon and he found that it was only a tease to his parched throat.

He met the mans eyes, noticing that his face was no longer so blurry as it had been. He pressed his lips together intent on getting the word out right, "Muh…" he wheezed at the man, closing his eyes knowing that wasn't right, "M…more" he finally hissed out through his sore throat. Inside he leapt knowing that he had gotten what he wanted across.

The man shook his head saying in suddenly understandable speech, "Not right now, too much will make you sick," He smiled, "again."

The man stood and helped him roll onto his back again, adjusting the bed a little to raise his head. Kito looked over at the man again, trying to remember something that would explain what he was doing here.


	19. Ramifications

Chapter Eighteen: Ramifications

Logan sat on a knoll overlooking another section of baked desert, a rifle rested across his knee. His hold on it was relaxed, as he looked for signs of life in the slowly cooling evening. In a few hours it would be freezing in this desolate place. It was late fall now, nearly into winter and it had been punctuated by blistering days and a sharp drop to thirty or below after the sun said its daily farewell to this small patch of the earth.

They were out here on a weeklong exercise honing their newly trained combat skills, pitted against each other to test that training. Logan oddly enough was the leader of the Blue Team, oddly because he never really thought of himself as a leader. Yet all of the people in his unit had begun almost from the start to look up to him, to defer to him for guidance. Even Shawnee had given over what seemed to him to be her coveted position among the younger in the group. He smiled looking at the ground, what would Max think about that?

His team, Blue Team consisted of himself, Hawker, and Mouse. Shawnee was leading the Red Team and she had the personnel advantage with Cage, Thomas, and Cotton. So far the Red Team was in the lead on the scenarios, three to two. Each day they were pitted against each other using a different scenario, it was about the only time that they would see Torri who was their overall supervisor on this exercise. At the end of the day the hits were tallied and the team with the least won the day, if there was a specific objective involved the number of hits was balanced against who had completed their task for the day. That was unless the team was wiped out at any given time during the exercise and then the other team won, period. They had been forced to make up the deficit from the beginning, Red Team getting their three wins in the first three days, and it was thought that they were going to sweep the competition. With two more days to go Logan wanted to catch up and quick. 

So here he sat standing sentry duty while the rest set up camp, tried to get something to eat and catch a few z's. They had chosen an outcrop boxed in on three sides by tall buttresses of rock for their nights accommodations. It was a place that was easily defendable, just because it was dark did not mean the games were over. He looked up at the narrow strip of sky outlining the red rock. There was no way they could get up there and get the jump on them. He turned his attention back out into the field of view before him.

He grit his teeth as he thought about the past several months, and how easily he had broken his promise to resist by whatever means possible what they were trying to do with them. Bryn and Torri had used his compassion against him, knowing that he did not care if anything happened to himself. So they had turned to threatening the health and well being of his fellow captives to keep him in line. So it had gone, and now here they were training in war games in preparation for something big. He had that vague uneasy feeling that he got on occasion when something big, something dangerous was looming on the horizon. Just as he had before his capture.

They had been training with weapons now for two months, at first heavily guarded by the Cadre should any of them try to use the weapons against their trainers. That guard had tapered off in recent days, allowing them to prove that they would not revolt in the middle of a mission. He was sure that there were snipers in high and hidden positions to prevent that. They were on their own this time, but that went without saying, the rifles they carried were equipped with training lasers, and their equipment with the sensors. There was no live ordnance on this drill. Just them against their own to see who had the aptitude for combat.

Mouse had surprised him, he had set her in his mind as being the least likely to pick up on this. Yet she had improved drastically during the physical training, and excelled at the obstacle courses and weapons handling. Her small body was lithe and agile, she could scrabble over rocks easily fitting herself into the smallest pockets between the sand and red boulders. He could now see why they had chosen to call her Mouse, aside from being as quiet as one. That had come as some dilemma to him when he had learned that she was on his team. Her abilities were that of a scout, but she had no means by which to communicate long distances what she found. She understood well enough what was said around her, but being unable to speak made her a liability.

Hawker was more reluctant toward the aggressive nature required to do what they were doing now. Several times he had balked on shots at the Red Team Members, and it had cost them at least one round of war games. He had learned after that, after Logan had reprimanded him firmly about the consequences of not taking a shot in a real life situation. They had really come together as a team and it showed. Now just what did they have in mind for them to do when all this training was done?

His eyes refocused instantly the moment he saw the movement, his grip tightening on the butt of his weapon, expecting it to be the Red Team on the prowl. Laughing under his breath Logan relaxed watching the snake slither between the rocks the same shade as its hide. He sat for long moments watching the determined progress of the rattler up the hill toward him. Suddenly the reptile stopped, jerking back as if it had been struck. Logan watched as it flicked its tongue several times, its arrow shaped head moving side to side, then it again tried to move forward and just as quickly reared back again. This time it turned to one side, going around whatever resistance it had felt. 

Logan's brows furrowed as he observed the odd behavior of the snake, and then his radar sprang to life, warning him of the approach of one of his group. Slowly Logan turned around seeing Hawker approaching his vantage.

The boy plopped down beside him looking out into the shimmering heat, "He smelled you," Hawker said softly, "I didn't want you to get bit."

Logan's brows knit again wondering just what he was talking about, it just as quickly dawned on him, "Oh," he said inclining his head a fraction, "You mean the snake. I wouldn't have let him get that close to me." The boy just smiled at him, "So is that why they call you Hawker?"

"My real name is John Lightfeather," He replied, even as he nodded to Logan, "See that hawk up there circling?"

Logan followed his gaze seeing the small speck in the sky high over their heads, "Barely."

Hawker did not say another word to him, but as Logan watched the dot stopped its lazy spin around the sky, now it was coming down growing larger as he watched. Logan got to his feet, as it seemed the bird was on a collision course with him. At the last moment the hawk fanned its wings swooping just a feathers breadth from his nose to land at Hawker's feet. It looked about with jerky motions of its head, looking at Hawker then at Logan and then the ground around them. Logan continued to watch incredulously as Hawker reached out then stroking the wild bird's head as it looked up to regard Logan again.

"I did this once for Shawnee when she refused to believe my ability," He looked up smiling, "When I was little I used to call Lynx's to my feet dragging their kills to me in offering. I think my mother near had a heart attack at the sight."

"Impressive," Logan said.

Looking into Hawkers eyes a moment the hawk leapt for the air and was off down the narrow canyon. Logan looked confused, he saw Hawker smile, "I sent him off after the snake, he is hungry." The boy said with a small laugh. Hawker began to frown, "I want out of here." He said suddenly, sharply.

Logan's eyes widened a bit, wondering why the boy had come to him like this? Could Case have spilled something about their still half-formed plan for escape.

"I think we all want to get out of here," Logan replied cautiously.

"Cage says you have a plan," Hawker said.

"Not really, no," Logan replied settling onto his haunches next to the boy, "Just a desire to see my wife again…" He frowned now looking away into the darkening sky, "If she is still alive." 

He looked back at Hawker his eyes narrowing, "I would have to know where we are, the closest town or city to here. I for one do not want to wander aimlessly in the desert just waiting to die. We would need more supplies than we have here and we would need transportation. You know how hard that is going to be to come by?"

"Yeah," Hawker said softly. 

Logan frowned, hating to have to lie to the boy, but he was still unsure just whom to and not to trust. He did not want to risk exposure. He and Case, as the younger man had been quick to correct him, did have a plan. It was about three-quarters firmed up. In their various jobs sprucing up the base both he and Case had gotten close to nearly everything they would need to make a break. They had even begun stockpiling supplies in a shed near the motor pool for ease of transfer later. They had made contacts with the people in motor pool and now knew where the vehicles were stored which was next due for maintenance, where the keys were kept and how to access fuel. 

The part they still had yet to figure out was how to make their break clean with no pursuit through the long open expanse of desert that surrounded the base. That was another problem because the only thing that they had not been allowed near was the aircraft. The Cadre had in their possession an ancient C-130 and two helicopters one for assaults and one for transport, the same one that he had been delivered here in. The C-130 was constantly flying in and out, dropping off and picking up troops to send to their different missions across the western United States. They were not even allowed on that side of the base, for they had been restricted to the barracks area and the training grounds, which was the complete opposite from the airfield.

There was no way for them to disable those means of pursuit and that severely curtailed any attempts to this point. Neither of them could think of a way around that perplexing problem.

Logan stood stretching his body for long moments and then turned as Mouse moved to join them. It was now completely dark and the chill had come back into the air around them. Logan felt his stomach rumble and just noticed the cups in Mouse's hands each with a warmed portion of stew for the three of them. She handed one to Hawker and then one to Logan. Logan signed thank you to her, even as he said it wrapping his hands around the warmth of the cup. She smiled broadly signing single handedly that he was welcome. She looked much more mature now, as if in the past few months she had come into her own. Her long blond hair was neatly braided and looped at the nape of her neck. Her fatigues finally seemed to fit her, which had to be an illusion because she had not grown any that he could ever tell. Her bright eyes were livelier than he had seen them since he had arrived here. It was as if she had finally realized that she could live life on her own terms if she really wanted to.

He glanced from Mouse to Hawker then out at the starlit sky. He looked back again handing Mouse the now empty cup, "You two had better get to bed, I want to be up before Shawnee and her gang. Hawker you have the midnight to four." 

Hawker nodded rising from his seat and nodding his head toward the tent. Mouse nodded as well following him back. He watched them as they put out the night's fire and moved into the tent for some sleep. Logan looked back out at the sky watching as the meteorites made brilliant streaks across the sky. His eyes then turned back to the narrow opening to their encampment, again watching for signs of life.

Logan paused a moment behind one of the few bushes large enough to obscure his presence. He listened intently for any sound. He felt the presence of his team, Mouse out ahead of them somewhere and Hawker to the left of him about twenty five yards. It was just barely light and Hawker was hard to pick out of the still dusky surroundings. They were closing on the other teams position quickly, mouse had relayed that on her last double back informing them that Red Team was about a hundred maybe a hundred and fifty yards ahead of their position and they were closing the gap. Logan shot a look over to Hawker signaling him to move forward. Logan then moved off to the right advancing at an angle that would put him nearly on the group without being seen. In a crouching run he moved up the slight incline of a dune flattening as he reached the overlooking ridge. He pulled out his binoculars slowly scanning the territory around them. He found Mouse after a few brief anxious moments. She was tucked up under a bramble looking ahead at a small copse of Joshua trees at the edge of a dried riverbank. Hawker was steadily moving up on her position keeping to her left. The younger man crouched down suddenly, becoming a stone. Logan moved his binoculars to take in the blond haired Cotton slowly pacing in front of the trees.

"So that's where you are," Logan muttered stirring up a bit of dust with his breath. Backing away he made his way down to the floor of the desert, quickly making his way from bush to bush to stay concealed. Mouse looked his direction as he caught up with her hiding place. She quickly signed to him that three of them were in the camp, the fourth she was unsure of. Logan nodded then signaled that she should move to the riverbed and drop into it to approach them without being seen. Hawker was now next to him, "Hawker I want you to see about getting up to that rise over there," He pointed over his shoulder to a large dune that would have a vantage of the whole area. "Be careful, Mouse says Cage is loose, and we both know what that means." Cage was now Case's call sign, as he still caged himself off from the rest of the unit. Logan was the only one that he had confided in. Logan had yet to share what Case had told him about his family, feeling that it was not his place to divulge the details of his life. None of the others would call him by his real and given name and at first it was a name that Case had found highly irritating. Lately he had gotten used to it.

Hawker rolled his eyes, "I know," was his grim reply.

Case was very good a thwarting their plans, showing up in their encampment in the middle of the night wreaking havoc, or swooping in on their advance just when they thought they had a win in the bag. The younger man was learning the ropes of being a Manticore all too easily, and Logan was not sure whether it was inherent in Case's genetics or whether he just had a vested interest in honing his skill for the time when it came to break out. Either way he was a major reason that they were still at a deficit of three to two.

Logan's eyes followed the boy as he quickly moved from scrub to scrub crouching low to avoid detection. Soon he was out of sight and then he nodded at Mouse who immediately scrambled out of her hole and darted the opposite direction toward the dried riverbed. Logan kept to the middle, waiting nearly five minutes before advancing toward the stand of trees where their objective lay in wait. Certain that the others were now in position Logan moved. Darting between the trees so as only to be seen as a blur, even if the sentry was looking his direction he closed the gap between him and the Red Team encampment. He paused to reorient himself about three quarters of the way to his goal watching as Cotton he came to the end of the circuit and turned away to walk the other direction. 

He wished sometimes that his built in radar had a greater range than fifty yards. Red Team's camp was still too far out to read where the others might be, and that made him uncomfortable. 

Logan darted from cover to cover again until he was very near the screening trees, and then paused checking Cotton's location before sprinting the last bit to a small opening between the Joshua trees. Crouching down Logan looked over the immediate area peering between the spiny leaves seeing the movement of another of the Red Team members just beyond his current cover. He shifted his head slightly one way and then the other making the most of the narrow slit to see what he could. He found that Thomas and Shawnee were conversing just opposite him. His head now showed them as yellow auras and he felt the approach of Cotton from behind him now. He was nervous, because Thomas was in the camp, and it surprised him that the younger man had not yet detected his thought patterns so close to the center of their operations. He turned to look over his shoulder just seeing the motion that was Cotton nearing his scant cover.

Logan took several deep breaths, knowing that this all depended upon how well his team could surprise the numerically superior Red Team. Logan's eyebrows raised hoping that everyone was in their spots for the ambush. That unspoken question was answered as he heard the crack of gunfire far off up one hill. He smiled slyly as Thomas cried out in frustration in the camp beyond where he hid. He heard Cotton cry out as well and the pounding of his feet in the sand as he neared and then passed Logan's small protection. The boy intent on the distant attack had not noticed Logan crouched in the shadows, and Logan automatically reacted, leaping up and latching an arm around Cotton's throat and yanking him back hard. He drew his handgun even as the boy was falling and standing at his head as Cotton landed Logan pulled the trigger once listening with pleasure as the harness started its loud beeping. Cotton lay there a moment tense and then his body relaxed the frustration clear to read on his face.

Logan did not linger long he burst through the low lying Joshua Tree branches ignoring the sting of their needles even as he heard another shot and heard Shawnee cuss, something that was totally out of character for her. Logan was intent on taking Case out before he found a way to ruin this so far perfect rout of Red Team's camp.

Logan landed lightly in the soft sand sweeping the area before his feet had stopped moving in the shifting silica. Shawnee and Thomas were sitting cross-legged where they had been shot, knowing that they could no longer participate in the exercise. He smiled again, then darted to the four-man tent that they were sharing.

He paused sweeping the ridges above the riverbed before poking his head and rifle simultaneously into the tent. It was empty of all but the rumpled sleeping bags that made up their weeklong existence out here. Logan backed out of the tent sweeping the area a third time before lowering his rifle, "Damn it," He muttered glancing over and seeing the sly smile on Shawnee's face. Logan smiled himself as he turned away. Case was definitely getting the hang of this whole soldier thing, and his genetics definitely gave him an advantage even over Logan himself.

Logan's rifle came up again as Mouse trotted into view, she shook her head giving him several simple signs that told him that she had not located any of the party leaving the area from her vantage. Logan nodded saying in a low voice, "Cage is not here…again." He looked down at her a moment, she was shaking her head with a knowing smile, "Sweep that ridge to the North see if you can pick up a trace of where he went."

Mouse nodded once and set off at a quick clip in the direction he had indicated to her. He watched her disappear over the dune and then turned to scanning the area one more time. He turned to face the ridge where Hawker had been sniping from and waved largely with both hands to let him know to come down from his perch. He could hear nothing over the three beeping harnesses and he found that annoying because relying solely on his radar was not going to give him much advantage with someone who moved as swiftly as Case did. 

With a sigh Logan moved back into the tent securing their objective in this scenario. It was a case marked Top Secret, and it was to hold the plans of a weapons shipment to a political power not in line with the interests of Manticore. He sighed again taking it to the screen of Joshua trees and burying it at the base where he had been hiding earlier. At least that would prevent Case from retrieving it from Logan's team. As he came out from behind the screen he headed for the opposite ridge intent on seeing what progress Mouse had made, when the urgent whistle broke the silence. Logan looked up fighting the shifting sand to crest the rise and see what Mouse's trouble was. 

Just as Logan crested the ridge he caught a glimpse of a body leaping for him, almost simultaneous to his radar pinpointing Case's presence. Logan raised his hands automatically, taking the brunt of the impact as he allowed his body to give to the younger man's charge. He felt Case tear the rifle free from where it was slung across his shoulder. 

Logan's stomach went squeamish a moment in panic as he fell past the horizontal to land head down on the slope he had been climbing. His foot came up planting firmly in Case's waist and he pushed his leg out lifting Case's body up and over his own. Gravity was a great assist and he heard Case's pained grunt as he impacted on the sand. Logan continued to slide trying to look back and see where Case had landed even as he maneuvered into a better position to get on his feet once he reached the bed. He leapt to his feet facing Case who was smiling wickedly at the older man's consternation. He moved in as Logan regained his feet swinging left and then right, even as Logan read the move and dodged each easily. Logan moved in himself kicking out into Case's gut and the boy fell quickly back to avoid the full brunt of the blow. They matched each other kick for kick and blow for blow until they were both panting hard from the exertion in the dry desert air. 

Case moved in again sending a fist toward Logan's gut, which was blocked, but the upswing of his other hand caught Logan right in the cheek spinning him around and nearly toppling him. He staggered a moment feeling Case in his radar and mule-kicked back catching the boy neatly above his waistline. Case staggered back, then planting a foot to stop his retreat he rushed back in, just as Logan had moved to a position facing him. Case kicked low and then high with his right foot and Logan blocked those then threw a combination of his left foot aimed at Case's right knee, a chop aimed at his neck and another blow aimed at his ribcage. Case was hard put to block them but when Logan stepped back kicking high at Case's head the boy caught it and yanked hard trying to throw Logan off balance. Logan hopped toward him and then shifted his weight backwards and dragging the unsuspecting Case down with him. Out of reaction Case released Logan's ankle in order to catch himself before he ate a face full of sand. Logan used the momentum rolling over one shoulder to his feet reaching into his waist holster and pulling the gun that he had used on Cotton. Case was quick to regain his feet but not quick enough to get out of the line of fire as Logan took the shot that ended the scenario.

Case looked frustrated only momentarily, shortly breaking into a tremendous grin, Logan smiled in return as the boy said, "It's about time you beat me, Old Man."

"Old!" Logan shouted, "I've bested you four times out of six!"

Case looked up a moment at the sky a contemplating look on his face. A moment later he looked back down at Logan, "Yes I guess you have, haven't you?"


	20. Information Overload

Chapter Nineteen: Information Overload

Max entered the activity room at the local hospital for another visit with Kito. It was her first since Sam had told her that he regained consciousness. She paused a moment inside the door scanning the half-filled room in search of the younger Transgenic. She smiled when her eyes caught sight of him, moving in earnest toward the table where he sat alone.

Kito was staring off out the window, which gave a good view of the green gardens down below the room. He did not seem to notice her, his face slack, his smoke gray eyes unfocused on the scene before him. Max paused by his table touching fingertips to its surface, and she frowned at his lack of reaction. She backed up a few steps and sat down across from her unresponsive comrade. Kito sat in front of a piece of paper one fist clutching a pen over a sloppily written letter. There were other marks on the paper and it was obvious that he had been making a serious effort at relearning his motor skills. He was dressed in a two piece smock with a light robe over it all. He was sitting in a slightly slouched position the hand not on the table rested precariously on his knee.

Sam had traded the bandage on Kito's head for a cap to hide the ever-present barcode on his forehead between his brows. His face was covered in light stubble, something that she had not seen on him ever since she had known him. She had begun to wonder if he was genetically coded to have facial hair.

Max grimaced, uncomfortable with seeing the once sharp if depressed young man left in this condition, "I'll kill Bryn," She thought angrily. It would have been better if she had just killed him and spared him this agonizing recovery. She leaned forward then looking intently at his slack face as he continued to stare out into the bright clear winter morning.

"Hey there," Max said trying to get his attention. She smiled as he blinked slowly and turned his head to face her, "How ya' doing?"

His brows furrowed as he regarded her, and he spoke or tried to, for agonizing moments he worked at mouthing what he was thinking. His face contorted grossly as he tried to get the right set of muscles working. Finally he slurred, "Wwhoo…aaaare y..y.yyou?"

Max frowned again, "Oh, not good," she thought wincing internally, out loud she said in a cheery voice, "I'm Max."

Kito's brow knit for long moments as he took that information in seeming to have a hard time sorting it. Max smiled wider when she saw the light of recognition behind his formerly glassy eyes, "Mmmmaaax." He stated in a descending tone confirming his awareness of who she was. He nodded in an ungraceful manner that told her that his muscles and his brain were still not in total sync yet. Sam said he was healing, miraculously so. His brain function and motor skills were improving every day but by what she was seeing here he had a ways to go until he returned to normal, or at least as close to normal as a transgenic can come.

"I ammmm bbeeetter," He replied to her earlier question, reassuring Max a little. His short-term memory was still intact.

"I am so glad to hear that," Max said too quickly, hearing it in her ears as selfish, "How're they treating you?"

He bobbed his head again, "GGGoood."

"Kito, do you remember Logan?"

Again that far off stare overtook his features. Max bit her lip wanting to push him to answer but not wanting to break his tentative concentration. A few moments later he said, "Heee is Tima's frienddd. He iiis you your hhhuusband."

"Yes," Max encouraged, "Do you…" she hesitated a moment unsure how much she was going to be able to push him, "What do you…what is your last memory before waking up here?"

He went silent yet again this time staring at the paper in front of him a look of what she interpreted as stubbornness painting his features. She sat there hardly daring to breathe as he sat silent across from her. Max's eyes searched his face intently looking for some sign that he was still with her and not locked away in his thoughts. 

After ten minutes he still had not uttered a word and Max sighed in frustration looking away at the others in the room working with blocks or cutting paper or coloring on construction paper. It was surreal. Max slowly set her hands on the table and started to get up saying, "I'm sorry Kito, I didn't mean to push you like that." She sighed again pushing up from the table.

"Pain," She heard Kito say in a quiet and clear voice. Max looked back again seeing his eyes intent on her, piercing her with cognizance.

Slowly Max resumed her seat, "What?" she asked stupidly thinking that she had heard things.

"Pain," He repeated just as clearly as before his eyes still locked on her own. Then the control faltered, "Nnoot able to help yyyou wwwhen theyy came for himmm. Nott aaaable to move, too mmmuch pain."

Max swallowed hard, as he continued in his faltering voice, "Dddid they…tthey gggot hhim." It was a statement of fact.

"Yes, Kito, they did," She said blinking slowly as she nodded. She was not willing to keep the truth from him.

"I dddid nnnot tell. Pleease Believe, I dddid nnnot tell ttthem hh…how to fffind you."

Max's heart leapt at that plea, because some part of her had wanted to blame him for Bryn's ability to find them after all these years. Slowly she opened her eyes again looking at Kito. She reached across the table laying one hand over his and saying, "I believe you Kito." A shaky smile formed on his lips and his next breath came out as a heavy sigh. Max smiled reassuring him and then sobered the next minute, "Kito…" The younger man looked up at her a moment focusing his gaze again, "Do you know where they might have taken Logan?"

That gaze lost focus again and he turned his eyes back out the window. Max bit her lip trying not to read too much into the reaction, that he had purposely shut himself off from her. She leaned back in her seat giving him time to think about it. She hoped that he would have an answer to the question that plagued her to this point. Again long minutes went by with no sound except the background noise of other people. Max looked down at her watch, grimacing again as the end of visiting hours was coming soon and she was still no closer to the answer she desperately needed.

Almost as if sensing her desperation Kito turned his eyes back on her. She watched as he looked down moving the hand holding the pen as he attempted to write or draw something. She could see immediately why he had been so still for all this time, the arm moved in jerky motions followed by profound shaking in his hand that left an indiscernible scribble on the paper. She watched as he took a breath moving his hand to an open piece of the paper in front of him. Try as he might the shaking came back and left a mass of scribbles where writing should have been. She looked up as his frustration started to reflect on his face, again his hand moved to a clean piece of the paper, and for the third time the shaking in his hand and arm prevented him from putting his thought on paper. Without warning his face screwed up into one of out and out anger and his fist came up and slammed down atop the paper he had been so desperately trying to work on. The muscles in his arms stood out like cords of rope despite the time that he had spent comatose and his eyes were wide with frustration. He did not relax that arm as if that was the only way he knew to keep the shaking at bay.

Max shook her head and looked down a moment. She looked back up licking her lips and laying her hand again on his rigid arm, "Kito…It's OK."

Kito looked down this time hiding the tears in his eyes at the weakness of his body and the shattered speech he was inflicted with when his mind worked so clearly. He looked up at her again taking deep breaths determined to put what he knew into words she could understand, "Eh…Edwards," He blurted watching as Max's eyes widened, "Tthey keep tesssts suubjects there. Ggifttted Norm's…Tthey would tttake Logan there."

"Edwards?" Max said and Kito nodded emphatically embarrassed by his awkward movements, "Where is that?"

Kito felt his face fall as that question invoked…nothing. He wanted to answer her, knew somewhere in his head he had the answer to that question but this time he had drawn a blank on the matter. Max's face mirrored his own and he became frustrated again when he saw disappointment creep into her brown eyes. Kito tried to speak again, but his throat closed and he only croaked. He dropped his gaze shaking his head in the negative.

"You don't remember?" Max asked sharply, she shook her head and then repeated, "I'm sorry. The name should be enough."

Kito watched from the corner of his eye as she stood and moved closer to him. To his surprise she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, then she whispered, "Thanks Kito, You've made my year."

Kito could no more help the smile on his face than he could the twitch in his still shaky arms.

Torri waited patiently as Cale efficiently formed up his unit for their weekly uniform and barracks inspection. When they were in line and at attention she slowly approached them. They formed two neat rows of three in the lounge with Cale standing at the fore. She stopped in front of him and he sharply saluted her as he reported, "Unit 135 formed and ready for inspection, Ma'am."

"Very well," She stated turning crisply to the left and heading for the beginning of the first row. She heard rather than saw Cale fall in behind her the clipboard at the ready to take down discrepancies. She scrutinized each of the soldiers in his small unit closely looking for even the most minute item out of place. She recited a few minor hits to Cale and listened as he wrote furiously to keep up with her quick dictation.

As she moved on to the second row she realized again just how impressive this team was. Each one was an individual, none had come here with any military background, and she recalled that she had been reluctant to take on the challenge of shaping the scruffy bunch into usable soldiers. Before her eyes Torri had watched them transform into a most formidable unit. Each of their unique talents blended and complimented then next and they used each specialty to advantage when they trained and when they fought. Their evaluations had improved drastically as well until they had become better than that of some of the Cadre units on board the base.

Torri walked past the last of the second row and moved on to the racks and footlockers standing open for her inspection each showing a neat display of uniforms. She slowly passed each reciting the little hits just because she couldn't find a lot wrong with their berthing. When she had completed her rounds Cale handed her the clipboard, saluted her again, took one step back and smartly returned to his place in front of his group.

She made a show of looking over the hits for the week and then slowly moved back to address the group, "You have been in training now for the last six months to become soldiers in Manticore. You have proven your ability and your teamwork. Not just to me, but to those, whom I work for," She smiled, "You've turned a few heads with your progress. And you diligence and hard work are about to be rewarded. We have been given our first assignment…" she said proudly, ignoring the scared looks that came her way from several of the unit, "Op's has just informed us that sensitive information about Manticore's operation has been intercepted by Canadian forces seeking the same successes we have had. Our mission will be to infiltrate the base just over the Wyoming border and retrieve those files. We will be stopping off in Wyoming to refuel and receive any last minute instructions before crossing the border toward our objective," she paused for effect, "You will receive a full briefing on the way. We will be leaving in 24 hours."

Torri turned to Cale, "Cale?"

"Yes Ma'am," He replied smartly

"Fall them out for chow."

Cale saluted her smartly turned to his unit and barked, "Dismissed!"

"Cale?"

"Ma'am?"

"Stay a minute," Torri said quietly, "Shawnee, take 'em to chow," Torri barked at the younger woman.

"Yes Ma'am!" Shawnee said but Torri did not miss her glance toward Cale as she headed the column as it moved at a double time out the door.

Cale turned his eyes intently down at her, waiting patiently.

"Cale I want to commend you on the handling of this unit, you are the reason that they are as good as they are now."

He looked for a moment unsure of her sincerity, then replied, "While I appreciate it Ma'am, I don't think the credit is mine to take."

"Oh I think it is," Torri insisted, "They recognized you as a born leader the moment you walked in their door. I have seen your leadership skill everyday since you have been in my command."

He stared at her blankly a moment as if trying to determine an underlying dig. Perhaps it was shock that she had paid him a compliment. Blinking several times in rapid succession as if his eyes had dried out he finally said, "Is that all Ma'am?"

"I think that will be all, you're dismissed," Torri replied and she watched as he crisply turned away and started for the door, "Oh." Torri said loudly stopping him in his tracks. He turned back to face her, "The scar on your left leg…how did you get it?"

Slowly he approached her again stopping just arms distance from her his face was grim and his arms crossed angrily over his chest, "I took a bullet when Lydecker tried to kill my wife."

"That is no simple bullet wound," Torri said matter of factly.

"No," he growled, "It became infected as I tracked Lydecker down and tried to kill him. It was all about revenge," His head tilted to one side, "I was unsuccessful." Without being dismissed Cale walked away following the path his unit had taken to the chow hall.

Torri stood for long moments thinking about those two lines, how much they said and how many new questions they brought to the surface in her head. Somehow she could not see Cale as the type to seek revenge. She didn't know whether to like the man for his abilities or hate him for his total dislike of the whole Manticore regime, particularly his apparent hatred of Lydecker. 

She could not deny that she was impressed with Cale, with the turnaround that she had seen in him. He had taken charge of the unit, but it had not been by choice, at first. Shawnee had foisted it on him as soon as she recognized his innate ability to lead people. They all saw his age as an equal to wisdom, and they had immediately begun to defer to him. He had balked, she had seen it, and he did not want to be their leader. The unit and Manticore were not something that he wanted to support.

It was unavoidable and he had been forced to take over the reins. Once he had come to terms with the inevitability of it he had settled in. And he had worked wonders within the group, for they all believed in him when he did not believe in himself.

Cale was a compassionate person, Torri also saw that and she had used it surgically against him, keeping him on the path that Bryn had set before both of them. It had worked beautifully. Now he was the most squared away of the bunch, his haircut his uniforms all were immaculate. He would have made a great Manticore. Torri slowly drew a breath and sighed. It was too bad that the obedience was only an act. Oh she knew that he was doing what he had to, only what he had to, in order to get out of this alive. He was staying under the radar of even Bryn. Torri knew that Cale was planning something, just what she had been unable to determine, but she would not delude herself into thinking that Cale just suddenly found himself happy here, or that he just decided that resistance was futile. His comment had confirmed that rebellious nature in him was still very much alive.

Nearly every day she saw that look on his face, that calculating scheming look that she sometimes saw on some of her younger Manticores when they were trying to steal away into town on Saturday nights.

Torri had also taken notice of the fact that Cage would confide only in Cale out of all the members in the group. The two, in fact, had become pretty fraternal, and that led Torri to believe that Cage was in on whatever scheme that Cale had planned.

So she sat back and continued to watch him, looking for a sign that would let her know his defection was imminent. It was an odd thought but she hoped that she was wrong, Cale was turning into one hell of a soldier.

The Next Day:

Max sat up suddenly as the computer chimed in an incoming email. She had spent the past several hours searching the incomplete pre-pulse records to try and find a reference to "Edwards", and it seemed that she had fallen asleep in the middle of the search. In her half conscious state she thought that it might be Logan, having somehow found a computer terminal by which to contact her. She squinted her still sleep bleary eyes trying to focus on the name of the sender. It wasn't Logan, and she did not recognize the codename. She nearly deleted it outright, worried about contracting a worm or something via an attachment. She grew curious, something told her that it was an "E" she wanted to look at. Sitting up a little straighter as the baby kicked her hard in the ribs, she double clicked the letter and began reading the contents. Her eyes widened as the information she was reading was absorbed.

"That's IT!" She squealed, "Oh my God!"

She was immediately on the phone to Zach and Tima on the road somewhere searching for the elusive Manticore base holding her husband.

"Yello," Zach's easy voice came over the line.

"Zach, its Max."

"What's up? You OK?" A note of worry crept into his voice, "Nothing is wrong with the baby is there?"

"No, Zach, Listen!" She said flattered and exasperated at the same time, "I just received an 'E' from one of Logan's contacts. With the lead from Kito to go on they were able to track the base where they have Logan at."

"Really," Zach said.

"Really," Max repeated, "Listen, 'There is a previously thought abandoned air base in central California that used to be known as Edwards Air Force Base. Contacts have confirmed that there is military activity being conducted there and by the look has been well established for some time. It is possible that Logan was taken there. It is remote and the area is all but deserted of any population.' Zach I think that this is it."

"MMmm," She heard on the other end and she heard Zach snap his fingers several times as if he was getting Tima's attention, "All right give me the directions."

"It says to take state highway fifty-eight until you come to it, they say that it is hard to miss."

There was a pause then Zach said, "That is about six hour from here. We're on our way."

"Zach."

"Hmm."

"Hurry," Max said softly.  



	21. Ships in the Night

Chapter Twenty: Ships in the Night

Case stepped over to the rack where Logan slept and knelt next to him. Case grimaced trying to keep quiet and suddenly found himself uncertain that waking Logan was a good idea. Certainly it would wait for after reveille? Case changed his mind and was about to get up when Logan's eyes came open a crack looking directly at the younger man, "What?" Logan whispered sleepily.

"Damn it!" Case said with a start. It was easy to forget that Logan had internal radar that kept him in touch with every one near him. "We need to talk," Case said quietly.

Logan groaned heavily and turned his face away a moment. Case heard Logan's muffled sigh as he pushed himself up from his rack. Swinging his legs over to touch the floor and rubbing his eyes Logan asked, "What time is it?"

"Three thirty," Case said gritting his teeth, expecting a backlash. He heard Logan groan in the dark.

"Case…can't this wait?" Logan queried a hint of frustration tainting his voice, "We leave in four hours, and I don't sleep well in planes."

"That's what I need to talk to you about," Case said sounding desperate.

Logan looked up at him sharply as if reading his intent from his voice. He glanced about the room a moment then back at Case, "Go to the head, I'll be there in a minute."

Case nodded silently and moved away glancing about him as he did. Case padded to the bathroom knowing that Logan's suggestion was a good one. The bathroom was the most private place in their barracks and they could carry a conversation in their without having to whisper. He waited there impatiently as Logan groggily joined him. Logan squinted hard in the bright light of the head, probably waiting on his night vision to give to his normal sight. After a moment he blinked several times and then looked meaningfully at Case. 

Case did not wait for him to ask, "I think it is about time to set things in motion," Case blurted in a low tone.

Logan was shaking his head, "Not yet its not. We don't have the others cooperation yet. This will not work unless we have at least a majority of the unit agree to it." Logan said crossing his arms over his chest, "Besides, we have a better bet of getting free when we get to the other end of the flight."

"How do you figure?" Case argued leaning one hand on a nearby sink, "We land at another base and then we're in a mission. I don't see that as the best time to attempt an escape."

"Think about it, Case. If we try to escape from here, we have the whole of the Cadre Rojas to fight through as well as nearly five hundred Norm soldiers that are stationed here. Then there is the miles and miles of desert in any direction we go. I only have an inkling of a notion where the next town is, if it even is still populated, and I am not sure our supplies will hold out. 

"Once we leave here we fly to Wyoming, which is so close to Washington you could practically spit on it. I know that area…I've been to Wyoming and I know where everything is along the way. That increases our chances of success right there.

Add to that, there will only be Torri and maybe one or two others from the Cadre to accompany us once we head for the border. The odds are a hell of a lot better than here on the base. I say we let the others in on it on the flight over there. If they will support it, we take over the vehicles before we cross into Canada and head for Washington."

Case was silent long after Logan had stopped speaking, his eyes on the tile on the floor, "What if they don't go for it?"

Logan threw up his hands, "I don't know…We could try it on our own, try to get one of the vehicles away from them. I don't like the odds on that though, I don't honestly know if the others would actively attack us, they're pretty well entrenched in this."

All Case could do was nod, "That does not sound very promising."

Logan just shrugged, "At this point we are playing it by ear anyway, this mission has pretty much blown the timeline out of the water." He saw the frustration on Case's face, "I don't like this any more than you do, Case, but what else can we do? I have as much reason to want out as you do, more…" Logan looked away, "The baby is about due."

"You've got some really high expectations about them still being there for you when you get back," Case said sourly.

"It's the thing that has kept me going to this point," Logan said with a shrug. He looked down at his watch, "For now we need to get to bed, we are on the pad here in about two hours."

Case nodded, feeling like they were without closure on this particular train of thought, but he saw by the look on Logan's face that they were done talking. Logan walked out without another word trudging back to his rack as if he had just gotten up long enough to go to the bathroom. Case waited about ten minutes before doing the same.

Zach opened his eyes wide, fighting fatigue as the darkened desert passed. He glanced over at Tima sleeping soundly in the passenger's seat next to him. She had just gotten done with a major portion of the driving to this desolate isolated place and she had seemed more than ready for a break. Unfortunately he had been awake the whole time she had been driving, and now he was having a real fight to stay alert. He looked back up seeing the light color staining the night sky announcing the coming dawn. They had to be getting close. He looked at the bright green numbers of the clock telling him it was nearly six in the morning. He groaned softly, felt like he had been driving for hours and it had only been about fifteen minutes.

"Ah!" he said as his headlights speared a faded green and white sign, reassuring him that they were almost to their objective. He slowed as he ascended the off ramp to the overpass and Tima was immediately awake beside him.

She squinted looking into the brightening sky now shining through her window, "We there?" She asked. She was quickly awake despite her catnap, looking around for any sign of the base that they had been sent here to find.

"Not quite, almost," Zach answered her. He shook his head irritated by more than just his lack of sleep. They had been chasing "Geese" all week long, following leads to bases that supposedly were used by Manticore. Most were long abandoned; wind, weather, and time was taking care of the evidence. They had actually come to several that were active sites, teeming with Manticore troops. There had been several narrow escapes from those. And still they had gotten no closer to Logan's whereabouts. It wasn't until the call from Max had come to them that they had what seemed a solid lead on the wayward leader of Logan's Brigade. "He'd better be here that's all I got to say."

"And if he's not?" Tima asked her eyebrow raised above her bright emerald green eyes.

He smiled crookedly, "Then we'll keep looking…" He glanced over at her, seeing if his cover had abated her rising indignation, "Of course."

"Thought you might say that." She said grinning herself. She unbuckled and turned in her seat preparing some of the stuff they had stored in the back of the vehicle. Zach glanced over at her again, seeing her firm posterior now next to him. It was all he could do to resist the temptation to smack it.

"You know Tima," Zach said, "You really shouldn't do that when I am trying to drive.

She glanced back at him, "Do what?"

Zach reached over and ran a hand from her waist down her close butt cheek, "Distract me with this."

She quickly turned around and plopped down in the chair smiling widely, "You distracted? During a mission? That is not the Zach that I know!" She joked with him as she strapped back into her seat.

Zach's smile widened and he laughed a little, "A lot has changed since you came into my life."

"Yeah well don't let that get in the way of what we're doing out here in the middle of Bum Frickin' Egypt."

"You know me better than that!"

They pulled off the highway well out of view of the gate, moving along a dirt track or dry creekbed that paralleled the perimeter fence. They parked the car in a dry ravine near the fence line and got out. They crawled to the top of a near by dune searching slowly the barracks and training areas of the base. They saw nothing at first to raise any interest just several large companies of soldiers drilling on a dried out track infield.

"This doesn't look good to go in and get him out if he is in fact here," Zach said doubly cautious since getting them both nearly captured at the last Manticore base they had found.

"That is a lot of soldiers alright," Tima agreed, "But I don't see Logan."

"Neither do…" Zach paused, "Yes I do. Second barracks to the right."

Tima shifted her gaze, "You sure?" She asked. She spotted the man outright but was uncertain that the nearly gray haired man was the same as the one who had kept her from getting killed when she had tried to get reinstated into the organization.

Zach nodded, "Definitely," and they both watched as seven people were ushered out of the building lining up in a neat formation of two, three person rows. They looked at each other warily, for leading the formation was Logan. Standing next to him was a shorter Manticore woman with a pink barcode on her forehead, and she was giving orders or instructions to the group, "What the hell did they do to him?" Zach asked quietly, watching as he stood at stiff attention before her. There were two other younger Manticores flanking the dark-skinned woman.

"Looks like they brainwashed him," Tima said bluntly, "We movin' in or what?"

Zach shook his head in the negative this time, watching as the ten people in the party fell out of the formation and moved to a waiting van, "They're moving out, we'll never get there in time. Get the car I want to follow them."

"Got you," Tima said and then disappeared down the hill.

Zach stayed atop the dune until he heard the sound of the car's engine. In that time he watched as the van carrying Max's husband drove deeper into the base rather than heading out the gate as he had hoped would happen. He slithered back down the hill hurriedly getting into the passengers sea, "Their headed for the airfield!" Zach growled, "Follow the fenceline!" He said even as he gesticulated the direction that he wanted to go. Tima was quick to respond but careful not to give them away to the people still living and working on this side of the base.

Zach clenched his jaw worrying that they were going to get away from him, "Maybe this is better," He said trying to convince himself as much as Tima, "There will be less people to deal with on the other side of the base."

"I hope your right," Tima said with a shake of her head. She concentrated on keeping the car going straight in the soft sand of the creek bed. They were not making much time, and without warning Tima swerved sharply to the right hitting the low lying bank at an angle and sending the car careening onto more solid ground.

She nodded to herself as the car picked up speed even as Zach looked at her in concern for the lack of warning. He shook his head and looked back toward the last place he had seen the van. He drew a breath only when he caught sight of the vehicle now peeking out from between small buildings at the edges of the airfield.

"Stop!" Zach ordered opening the door even before Tima was able to comply. He stepped out watching the vehicle slow and then disappear behind one of the large hangers on their side of the airstrip. Zach signaled Tima to get their gear and she was quick to return with rifles and their harnesses holding several flash and smoke grenades. He slowly suited up, keeping his eyes on the Hangar in case the van retreated out the other side.

"Let's go…" Zach whispered as if there was someone who would overhear if he spoke any louder. They easily leapt the fence using the tower to block their crossing from any onlookers. Tima covered Zach as he darted to another patch of cover near another outbuilding and then followed him. They relayed in that manner until they were near the hangar where Zach had last seen the van. He paused by the door of the hangar scanning the area behind them quickly with his eyes trying to ensure that no one had seen their passing. No one seemed to be aware of his or her presence however and Zach slowly let out a breath. He nodded at Tima who eased the small personnel door open. She then peeked in quickly sweeping the area with her eyes and her weapon. She was back out in a flash signaling all clear. Zach eased into the hangar and Tima shadowed him. The hangar was empty save for the dust and the cobwebs that had built up over time. The dust under their feet made the smooth surface of the bay slippery and they moved cautiously. Parked outside the other end of the hangar framed by the partially opened doors was the van they had seen Logan transported here in. They flanked the doors, listening for any activity beyond their range of view. Tima darted out the door crouching next to the solid wall of the van hiding her slim frame behind the aft wheel and sweeping the area fore and aft of her position. She motioned to Zach and he joined her slowly moving toward the back of the vehicle. 

Zach leapt around the open aft door sweeping the inside, "Damn!" He muttered finding the vehicle empty. Tima came up beside them and Zach glanced over seeing her brow furrow at the sight.

"Where'd they go?" And as if that was a cue an engine started on one of the craft. A second engine coming on line swiftly followed it. It was not too far from where they stood but several other smaller buildings blocked it from their view.

Zach and Tima ran in unison toward the source of the sound fearful of the implications. As they rounded the hangar the third and fourth engines were coming on line great gouts of smoke issuing from their tailpipes. They ran as quickly as their genetic make up would allow, dodging between small outbuildings on the skirt of the tarmac and as quick as it was it was not enough to close the distance between them and the now taxiing C-130. It made the runway in moments and was accelerating quickly to take off speed. They didn't quit however, running after the aircraft even as the distance between them grew and the wheels left the deck.

Logan leaned back, butterflies in his stomach, there was so much that had needed planning and yet he had not managed to get it done before Torri had thrown a mission at them. Logan sighed heavily leaning forward again and glancing out the still open back end of the plane. Logan noticed movement behind the plane, and straightening a bit he refocused on two people running behind them. He was unable to squash his reaction jerking into a sitting position as he immediately recognized the two trailing the C-130.

"Zach?" Logan muttered. The Brigade had finally tracked him down, but would they be able to get to the plane in time? He glanced about him quickly trying to think of a way to get them to stop the plane. He felt the plane accelerate and then the squeamish feeling as the plane resisted gravity and took to the air. He stared back out to the tarmac watching Zach, Tima and the ground fall away from him.

"What is it?" Shawnee asked leaning toward him and looking where his gaze was still fixed.

Logan started, "Nothing," He said too quickly, looking away, "It was nothing."

Too late…they were too late!

"Damn it," Zach said slowing to a stop, panting hard.

He looked over at Tima who caught up slowing to a stop beside him. She doubled over her chest heaving trying to regain her breath. "Max…is not… going to be happy about this." She added between gasps.

"No, she's not," Zach agreed sidestepping closer to Tima, "You OK?"

"Yeah fine," She breathed, "Just out of practice."

"Yeah," Zach said smiling, despite the bad deal they had just been handed, "Me too!"

They jumped as a loudspeaker squelched loudly, "You there! Stop," A voice thundered. Both of them looked in unison the direction of the voice. Several truckloads of soldiers were barreling down the tarmac toward them. They both raised their weapons lighting off a volley at the upcoming vehicles.

"Move!" Zach ordered even as his feet moved of their own volition toward the perimeter fence. The air sizzled around them with return fire, many bullets ricocheting off the tarmac pelting them with sharp bits of cement. The soldiers were unable to get a good bead on the retreating Manticores however, both for the motion of the trucks and the speed and unpredictable path the two were taking. Without pausing the pair vaulted the ten-foot fence their feet already in motion as they hit the ground on the other side. They were in the car and on the road before the trucks had neared the perimeter fence. They headed straight into the desert driving until the base was no longer visible before making a path back to the nearest highway. They were well on their way out of the area before they placed the call they both were dreading.

"You…Saw him?" Max said on the phone and Zach could hear the tears in her voice, "You actually saw him?" It was barely a whisper.

"Yes," Zach repeated, "They flew him off the base along with seven others."

"You're sure it was him," She asked confirming her fear.

"Absolutely."

"Any possibility you found out where they were headed?" Max asked trying to sound hopeful.

Zach glanced over at Tima who looked devastated that they had been unsuccessful, "Our presence on the base was discovered, we couldn't investigate further without risking capture."

"So," Max's voice sounded very small, very hurt, "We're right back where we started?"

"I'm afraid so Max," Zach said apologetically, "I'm sorry."

"Me too," She whispered.

"Max?" 

"Yes?"

"He'll come back," Zach said earnestly, "He has too."

"MMmm," Was all Max replied with, sounding unconvinced.

Max hung up the phone and immediately broke into tears, not wanting the news to be true, not willing to start this whole process all over again. All the work they had done to get to this point, and all for naught, he was gone again, only God knew where and now she would probably never see him again. They couldn't possibly get that lucky twice.

"Damn it!" She growled through her tears, the pain of Logan's loss welling up fresh within her again. She felt like her insides were tearing apart, and that only made her cry harder. She was unable to move frozen by her pain and her guilt. 

It was only when her water broke did she realize that the pain was not from Logan's loss, and when the contractions hit her again it was all she could do not to cry out.


	22. Twist of Fate

Chapter Twenty-One: Twist of Fate

Logan sat for long moments just staring at the hub of the Humvee, at the nut at the six o'clock position. His mind was chasing circles, if they had been delayed just a few more minutes! Just a few more minutes and they would have been able to overpower the guards and he could have been on his way home. Home, away from here and into Max's arms. His stomach contracted…if she was still alive that is. Otherwise he would just be returning to a cold and lonely apartment. But…she had to be alive didn't she? Who else would have sent Zach and Tima this far to find him?

"Assuming she _is_ alive," Logan thought fiercely. Had she stayed in Seattle or had she taken the assault on their home as a cue to find another place to hole up? If she had been smart she would have moved away. She would reduce her risk as well as the baby's by finding somewhere where the radar for Manticore's wasn't so strong. "Since when has she ever played it smart?" He asked himself laughing a little. She was stubborn…she would probably stay in the city at least until she determined if he were alive or dead, and if alive, until she had news on his return. He hoped the answer would be an emphatic yes on that. And yet the opportunity still eluded him.

She would be due any day now if his muddled calculations were correct, and he would be absent for the baby's birth. Again that pessimistic part of him threw up a roadblock, bringing up her inability to carry any child to term.

Absently he shook his head, convincing himself that this time would be different that the child of their love would grow strong and be born healthy. What will she have? The thought drifted through his mind, and he was unsure that he had a preference as to sex. The harder question to fathom was whether it would be like Max or Normal. He was no longer normal and that increased the chances of the child being exceptional. That thought scared him more than a little, causing him to wonder if they would be able to handle a child where every tantrum might lead to breakage or someone's serious physical injury. That would require heavy discipline until such a child was old enough to understand the need for control.

Logan shook his head realizing that the train of thought he was on was going to get him into trouble. He centered his mind back on the mission at hand and the possibility, if any, of an escape. He had not let the others in on the deal yet and looking over at Case he could see the boy was getting anxious about getting a green light.

Logan drew a deep breath then leaning forward and looking toward the front of the plane to see where Torri was. The Manticore was reading over their list of supplies and double checking all of their preparations. The two Manticores who had come with her to ensure that nothing untoward happened on the trip were both soundly sleeping in their jump seats toward the cockpit.

Logan then turned back to his comrades signaling for attention. Most of the group was immediately alert and those that had fallen asleep were quickly roused. It was too noisy to speak inside the rattletrap of a plane so Logan was reduced to using a combination of combat signals and the sign language he had learned to communicate more efficiently with Mouse. Mouse and Shawnee began shaking their heads before Logan had even finished his haphazard telling of he and Case's plan. Shawnee had that same look on her face as when she warned him not to consider trying to escape. She quickly signaled negative vote on the issue. Mouse was right behind her. Logan continued to look around the group. Hawker was smiling and nodding as if he had known this was coming despite Logan's insistence that there was no plan. Case's expression was guarded but Logan already knew his vote was a resounding yes. He then looked to Cotton and Thomas, whose expressions were unreadable. 

Logan raised his eyebrow at the two of them. They were slow to respond and reluctantly they both signaled their vote against the action. Logan sighed heavily and closed his eyes a moment, no majority for, therefore there would be no attempt, at least not a team attempt. Was he willing to risk it with just Case, and maybe Hawker and himself? He wanted to get away, but he wanted a clean break, he didn't see that as a possibility. There were too many variables that he had no answer for, not the least of which was he and Case were in separate vehicles leaving the base. Hawker would be with Case and that left Logan with all the reluctant ones. Again that lack of planning for a mission ate at him.

A slap on his arm brought him back as a participant. It had been Case who was now looking at him and signaling for a final call to be made on the attempt. Logan looked at him long and hard and finally shook his head in the negative, at which Case's face hardened and crossing his arms he threw himself back into his jump seat. It was the same expression that Logan had seen when he had first joined the group, that hard, proud, and stubborn look.

With a weary sigh Logan leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling his world suddenly spinning out of control and all his plans being laid.

A loud thump and a sharp drop in altitude woke Logan from an unexpected slumber. He looked about him seeing the anxious faces of his unit to either side of him. Had something gone wrong? He glanced toward the front of the plane seeing Torri unstrap herself and start for the ladder that led up to the cockpit.

Logan leaned back again reassuring them with, "It's probably just turbulence." Several of them nodded accepting that and relaxing slightly.

He spoke too soon, as they all heard a loud pop followed by a sound like metal grinding and the pitch of the prop became erratic. That was followed shortly by a loud explosion behind his head somewhere. Everything was dizzying action after that. The plane lurched heavily to the left throwing Torri from the ladder she had begun to climb across the space to the other bulkhead. He heard her head smack sharply even above the added din and watched helplessly as she crumpled into an unmoving heap. Multiple projectiles pinged off the skin behind where the team was sitting.

"AH!" Logan yelped in surprise as a searing pain tore through his upper left arm. He looked toward the source of the pain seeing a six-inch piece of metal protruding through his flesh. The shrapnel had essentially mushroomed the skin of the aircraft into the back of his arm and he was now stuck quite literally to the aircraft. Grimacing Logan drew a deep breath and then quickly tore himself away from the hooks in his arm. His vision went white for a moment and he felt close to fainting from the burning pain, but he found himself free. Logan glanced down again finding the shrapnel still protruding from his arm muscle. He reached over nearly fainting as he pushed the tapered chunk of metal out the way it had come in then clapped a hand over it in an attempt to stop the bleeding. Looking around him there was similar damage all over the section where they were seated, which was parallel to the engine. That thought sent a chill through him.

"Is everyone…" He never was able to finish the statement as a second explosion rocked the plane. Again the plane lurched to the left. Logan felt the attitude of the plane shift as the pilots fought desperately to recover, they over corrected and the team found themselves hanging by their harnesses from their seats and he caught a glimpse of Torri's limp body sliding the other direction. The plane righted once more but only momentarily as the nose tipped down and he heard Mouse actually make one of her rare sounds as her stomach left her.

The plane was going down now at a sharp angle and began to list to the left side again and Logan worried that they might get into an unrecoverable spin. Somehow it had yet to happen and Logan prayed that the pilots were good enough to not kill them all. Logan strained to look over his shoulder out the small window to his right, feeling his stomach drop in anxiety as the ground was quickly rising to meet them.

"Hold on!" Logan hollered as loud as he could, bracing himself for what was going to be at best a nasty landing. Miraculously the nose began to come up toward the horizon but it ended up being too little too late.

The pain in Logan's arm roused him from unconsciousness and he attempted to raise his head grimacing at the shooting pain the move caused him. Slowly he opened his eyes blinking several time to try and focus on…well anything. He was slouched into his harness the ground being oddly tilted down and away from him. His left sleeve was wet and sticky with blood and Logan raised his right hand to his biceps laying fingers against blood crusted around the still oozing shrapnel wound. Some of the material from his sleeve was stuck to it and Logan did not relish the idea of trying to get that free of the scab. His right hand and his feet were all numb and for a moment Logan feared that he might have damaged his spine yet again. Quickly he moved his toes in his boots reassuring himself that they functioned. He then realized that it was due to the harness cutting into him painfully at his shoulders his chest and his crotch. Slowly he reached up feeling for the latch that was holding him suspended. He slid from his seat landing on rubbery legs that threatened to collapse under him. Logan reached out a hand to steady himself a moment and to get a look around them. 

The plane was semi intact though he could see where the frame had been twisted up at the nose of the plane where they had taken the brunt of the impact. Several sections of the decking were cracked and dirt had actually been piled into it just forward of the second Humvee. Looking up the ceiling was wrinkled heavily almost like clothes left in a rumpled heap. Everything not secured had been thrown about and debris covered the whole of the cargo area. 

Glancing forward he could see one of the Cadre laying slightly reclined still in his jump seat, obviously unconscious. The other Cadre member and Torri were nowhere within his field of vision. He turned back to look at his team all of them unconscious. He looked each over with his eyes seeing that Cotton had suffered a pretty good gash to his leg and Shawnee had a graze mark on her cheek where some shrapnel had penetrated the skin near her head. The others had nothing physically wrong with them. He let out a breath that he had not known he was holding at that assessment.

Logan slowly became aware of the smell of smoke, and he glanced around looking for the source of the smell but did not find the source to be anywhere within the visible cabin. It was probably the wing tanks on fire from the explosions, the landing or possibly even both.

"Not a good thing," Logan muttered fighting off a bout of dizziness from the sudden motion. He stumbled over to the next closest person to him, Case, and leaning over he said, "Case?" The younger man did not respond, not thinking, and immediately regretting it he reached over with his left hand laying it on Case's shoulder, "Case!" He repeated adding a little shake that sent shock waves up his already sore arm.

"NNmm uh?" The younger man muttered in coherently.

"Case, damn it man, wake up!" Logan said leaning down to get a view of his face.

"Wh…what?" He asked groggily trying to focus on Logan's face. Logan unlatched him impatiently watching as he slid to his knees and Logan had to catch him to prevent the boy from ending up face first on the ground.

Case straightened in Logan's arms shaking his head slightly then he looked up with a more focused gaze, "What happened?"

"We crashed," Logan said succinctly, "Case I need you to get the rest up and out of here."

Case did not register that immediately. Logan reached down grabbing him by both shoulders and shaking him once, "Case! The plane is on fire! Get the others up!"

Case shook his head again this time in the positive, "Right," He said finally sounding possessed of his senses. Shakily he got to his feet moving away to rouse the others. Logan watched him a moment before moving off to check Torri and the crew of the plane. 

Logan moved quickly to where the other Cadre Rojas should have been and he found him, but not in the way that he had hoped. The forward Humvee had come free of its chains and had rolled violently forward coming to a stop at the forward bulkhead in the cargo bay. Laid across the hood surrounded by his own blood and viscera, was the other Cadre, he had been popped by the vehicle like a bloody grape. His eyes were wide and scared, now glazed in death, blood was everywhere even staining high up the wall. Logan took a deep breath trying to quell his suddenly heaving stomach. He turned away closing his eyes against that image, but it was already burned into his brain. Quickly he turned to the other Cadre, kneeling down to look him over. He was breathing steadily and he looked no worse than the members of his unit. 

Logan stood back up looking around for Torri, not immediately seeing her anywhere around. He began a search in earnest for her, finding her limp body tangled up in one of the unused cargo nets clipped to the deck plate. Slowly he untangled her from the net, realizing how lucky she was to have been caught in it. Otherwise she would certainly have been dead by now. He laid her out flat on the deck once he had freed her looking her over for any serious injuries. Nothing, how lucky could one girl get? There was only the impact mark on her head. It had split her brow open diagonally across her barcode as if God wanted to negate that particular mark from her. The area around the gash was deep purple blue and black and her eyes were both swollen and would probably show the blood from her impact. 

Logan left her, and the unconscious man in his seat, a moment and ascended the ladder to the cockpit. The smell of fresh blood was thick there and both the pilot and co pilot was slumped forward against the yokes. Logan grimaced and held his breath as he reached for the man on the right slowly pulling him back from the console. The head lolled toward him and it was all he could do to jump back to avoid it leaning against him. The man's eyes were open and starting to turn white and blood was coming from his nose mouth and ears, well dried, which probably told that he died shortly after the impact. It looked as if he had impacted the yoke at an angle that had driven it up under his ribs. A shiver ran up Logan's back, how had the team gotten so lucky? The Pilot was dead as well but in his case the windshield had shattered and the shards had nearly shredded him. 

Logan quickly backed out and trying to erase the images of death again from his mind as he slid down the ladder and moved back over toward Torri. The smoke was heavy and thick now and through it Logan could now see wisps of flame coming from where the wing attached to the fuselage of the plane. He checked Torri over more thoroughly before slinging her over one shoulder and heading toward the aft of the aircraft. By the time he had done that most of the team was up and about and the stern gate had been opened somehow to allow them to egress the plane.

He stepped out into a darkening sky but there was still enough light to make out the trench the craft had dug on its landing and the trail of debris behind them for probably ten miles. One wing stuck out of the ground at a forty five degree angle, one mangled prop the only thing keeping it from tipping over. He saw wheels Logan whistled under his breath, feeling extremely lucky to be walking away from this at all. They were in the middle of a set of rolling hills. Off in the distance he could see the occasional taillights of vehicles passing on a fairly large Highway. There were many headlights and taillights to be seen nearly perpendicular to their crash sight and it was almost a certainty that someone would be out this way soon. It was the first moment that he had actually stopped reacting and thought. This was it, this was their chance to get the hell out. By the time that Torri and the other Manticore would revive it would be likely that they would be beyond any net that Manticore tried to set up for them. The other Humvee seemed to come through the crash intact. It would take them all, it would be cramped certainly but it would get them away. They were going to have to move fast however, he didn't know just how long he had been unconscious and he still was uncertain how fast any "Rescue" would arrive.

He moved over and gently lay Torri on the ground next to Mouse who had yet to regain consciousness. He looked down at that lax face again, he smiled bitterly at her unconscious form, "I know you did what you had to with me…with us all. I understand that this was not what you wanted, and I forgive you for what has happened. I hope…" He found it hard to say this about an enemy, "I hope you get to work for Lydecker again someday. Just leave me and mine alone… that is all that I ask of you." He stopped speaking as he felt Case approach in his radar. Again his head started spinning and suddenly his head started hurting.

"What are you doing?" Case asked angrily, "Why are you saving her?" 

"I'm getting any who survived out of there Case," Logan replied sternly, "No one is getting left inside that plane."

"Why?" He repeated, "You're going to save the enemy…the very person who has suppressed all of us for the past six months?"

Logan straightened quickly looking angry and ready to punch the younger man, "I may not like Manticore, or what it stands for, or what it did to my life, but I will not allow someone to die, no matter who they are or what they represent. They have yet to break my will that far down." 

He settled a moment later, "Get as much as you can out of the wrecked Humvee and pack it into the other. Hopefully it still works, if it does get it out of there. Move it and everyone else away from the wreckage. I don't know how long we have until 'help' arrives but I want to be out of here when it does."

Case brightened suddenly really registering what Logan had said to him. This was it their escape plan, and what better way to get away scott free? Case nodded enthusiastically, trotting off toward the aircraft, Logan followed at a slightly slower pace still dizzy but knowing he had to get the other Cadre out of the wreck. 

Logan fought through the thick smoke as he approached the other man, having to cover his mouth with his sleeve in order to breathe. He heard rather than saw the intact Humvee start and back out of the aircraft, and glanced back trying to make the vehicle out through the heavy gray wall of smoke. He turned back around still moving toward the Cadre Rojas seat, and he didn't see the punch coming, he hadn't felt the man nearing him in his radar. The Cadre had wakened sometime since Logan had last checked him and the punch caught Logan solid in the jaw. Logan staggered back one hand going to his aching face. The boy loomed out of the smoke tracking what he thought was an easy target in Logan. Evidentially the boy had never seen him fight.

Logan recovered quickly watching the toe headed boy approaching, standing amazingly still his eyes glinting in anger, "Boy, we don't have time for this." Logan growled, "This plane's about to go up in flames. You need to get out of here."

"You think I am going to let you freaks escape you got another thing coming." The boy stopped arms lengths from Logan, assuming a fighting position.

"Escape?" Logan said incredulously, "Do you think I would come back in here after your sorry butt if I was planning to escape?" Logan lied. He planned to escape all right, as soon as everyone was safely away from the burning hulk of the C-130. This particular Cadre Rojas was putting a serious kink in the credo he had insisted on about letting no one die.

"Who knows, who cares?" The boy stepped in and Logan dodged easily the combination. The boy spun to face Logan again and waited for Logan's move.

Logan stepped in feinting to one side and as the boy ducked away Logan threw a heavy fist up at an angle catching the soldier square in the gut and winding him. Logan stepped into the boy as he went down, bringing up one knee as he pushed the soldier's head toward it. A resounding crack echoed through the place and the boy fell onto his back unconscious.

"I told you," Logan said with a pained grunt, lifting the young soldier and throwing his weight onto his good shoulder, "I don't have time for this." He coughed as he moved back through the still thicker smoke feeling the ash burn his lungs and unable to shield himself from inhaling more. He winced as he passed unseen flame, feeling the heat of it against his face. He was practically running as he reached the stern gate and exited into the clean air of the cooling night.

Logan laid the young, again unconscious, Cadre on the ground next to Torri then stood feeling slightly dizzy and a little nauseous. He told himself that it would pass as the air soothed his seared lungs.

Logan looked about the makeshift staging area. Case and Thomas were busily loading supplies into the back of the Humvee and rearranging it to place the added supplies culled from the wrecked Humvee still in the burning plane. Mouse was awake now, sitting some ways from the hulk of the plane cradling her head and looking scared. Hawker was standing staring off into the night cradling one arm next to his body, and Logan wondered if he had misjudged the condition of some of his unit mates.

Shawnee was just finishing a bandage on Cotton's leg and seeing him she stood moving his direction.

Logan smiled wearily at her as she stepped up, and he just noted that she was limping slightly, "You OK?" he asked her.

"I twisted my aankle stepping off the ramp into the darkened and evidently deeper than anticipated ditch," She said shrugging, "I will be fine…You however." She added, "Look as if you should sit down."

"I'm fine," Logan said, even as another wave of dizziness blackened his world. He raised his hand to his forehead.

"Sure you are Ca-ale," She purred, slowly guiding him toward a small mound just high enough to make a comfortable seat and the wall of the trench served as a good backing. She handed him a cup of water, "Drink it slowly." She admonished him. He nodded slightly causing the world to spin suddenly and brought the cup to his lips. 

He took a sip and looked back down into the feline face of his companion, "How're the others?" he asked starting to get concerned for himself at the way his own voice sounded in his ears.

"They will live, Hawker was hit by flying debris and his right arm is broken. Mouse, I fear may have a mild concussion. Tomas is quite fine, a little shaken but not hurt in any physical manner. Cotton and you received the worst of it I fear. Cotton's leg will heal but one centimeter deeper and he would not be with us now."

Logan grimaced as Shawnee straightened his arm, "As for you my strong willed friend, this is a very ugly wound. You look to have lost a lot of blood." As Logan drank, Shawnee unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeve.

"I'm fine," Logan insisted after swallowing what felt to be sandpaper on his tortured throat.

"Logan…" She said softly, and he realized through his hazy thought that it was the first time she had ever used his first name, "You are as pale as a freshly bleached sheet."

"Oh," Logan replied distantly, "Must be why I can feel the world spinning." He admitted to her and to himself.

She smiled wanly as she finished rolling the sleeve up to the caked in portion of it.

"We'll be out of here soon," Logan muttered, "Everything will be better from here on in."

Shawnee only nodded without conviction, then she held his arm to his side with a strong hand, stronger than he would have imagined actually, as she quickly ripped the sleeve loose from the hold of his wound. Logan lost his tentative hold of consciousness after that.

Shawnee laid the unconscious man back gently against the freshly torn earth and finished treating his wound as she said, "I will miss you Ca-ale. I wish you the best for a safe return and a happy life." 

When she had finished she stood looking down upon his slack face smiling a little before searching for Case, "Ca-age!"


	23. Loose Ends...

OK, Here is one last tidbit for all of you to read. I am afraid that you are going to have to wait a while for the rest of it, like two weeks, until after I get home! (YEAH, home finally home!)

Enjoy and please R&R, I enjoy your input.

Darwin

Chapter Twenty Two: Loose Ends…

When Logan next regained consciousness it was to the vibration of the vehicle under him, the loud humming of the knobby tires on the Humvee. He blinked several times and sat up slowly wincing at the pain in his arm. Everything around him was dark even the interior of the vehicle, looking out the window he could see stars peeking out between dark clouds. A wan moon shown red, just rising from behind the planet. Blinking he looked about him wondering where he was and how he had gotten here. The last he remembered was the crash sight, Shawnee treating his arm, and then pain and blackness.

Case was at the wheel staring intently at the window of light provided by the headlights and he glanced over at Logan a moment seeing him moving finally, "About time you woke up." Case said shortly.

Logan straightened up a little more, raising his right hand up to his left arm. There his fingers encountered the torn sleeve where he had been skewered by the plane. Beneath the tear in his sleeve his arm had been bandaged tightly. He then looked into the backseat seeing Hawker and Mouse and no one else. More quickly he sat up straight and looked over the faces in the Humvee again. 

"Whe…Where's everyone else?" Logan asked in alarm, looking back to Case for the answers, "Shawnee, Thomas, Cotton?"

Case looked over at Logan his mouth a thin line, "Thomas and Cotton we just dropped off at the last major town, they're going to take a bus back to their respective homes. Seems they live only about 50 miles apart from each other."

"And Shawnee?" Logan asked getting a terrible sinking feeling.

"She," Case swallowed, "She stayed behind."

"WHAT!" Logan said incredulously, even as deep down he knew that Shawnee had never wanted to leave, that she would never, short of being forced, leave the only life that she knew. 

"She said…she said that 222 was suffering from a concussion and someone had to stay back who knew how to handle it."

"But they'll kill her," Logan groaned.

Case was shaking his head, "She is going to claim no knowledge of what happened after the crash. She is going to claim to have been unconscious when we left. That should keep her out of trouble."

"But…they'll wonder why we didn't take her with us when we left, even unconscious."

"She'll figure something out."

Logan shook his head slowly, "God, Case I hope she made the right decision," Logan said softly.

"There was no convincing her otherwise," Case said, "believe me I tried."

"I know," Logan replied looking back out the window. She had told him once that she was happy, well treated. He hoped that circumstances wouldn't change that treatment. "I only hope she'll be alright."

Logan looked back to the other two, "So why did you guys stick around then?" He said wincing at the pulling of his shoulder.

"I live in Eastern Washington," Hawker said, "And it's right on the way. I know my mom probably thinks I'm dead, so I am going to surprise her."

"She'll be surprised alright, but she'll surely be happy to see you." Logan then looked over his shoulder at Mouse, she was still looking scared, out of place, all of the self confidence he had seen in her was suddenly gone, "Mouse?"

She looked away with tears in her eyes. Finally she signed at him not looking to see his reaction. Logan swallowed hard, "You have no family," he whispered. He turned in his seat understanding suddenly the close attachment Mouse and Shawnee had possessed. Shawnee had essentially been her mother and she was still back there. Case looked over at Logan a moment his hands making nervous motions on the wheel, "Shawnee insisted that Mouse come with us, even when she was adamant about staying behind. But Shawnee wanted her to have a life."

Logan's mouth thinned then he looked back at her again, "Mouse?" For a moment the girl didn't react then slowly she turned her red eyes toward Logan, "We'll take care of you, I promise. We're your family now."

She sniffed loudly looking uncertain of his sincerity, and then she signed at him again. Logan looked at her smiling warmly signing back, a repeat of her own sign, "I promise." Was what he told her. A small smile formed on her lips and she looked down fidgeting a moment with her shirt and then she nodded without looking at him, as if she was convincing herself that it would be all right.

Logan turned back toward the front sighing heavily as he looked out into the deep night. Home…he was truly going home! But first there were a few loose ends to tie up.

Torri woke to a pain that felt like her whole head was physically expanding and contracting in quick pulses, she tried to sit up but immediately lay back down again as her whole body screamed at her. The light was bright around her and at first she thought that it was the sun, blinking again she looked around her only with her eyes. All around her were people, and floodlights, and her eyes flew wide and a hand went to her head. She encountered there a bandage and at first she thought that it was just there to hide her barcode. There was pain when she touched it though and it brought a flood of memory back.

She bolted upright and turned her eyes instinctively toward the plane. It was in tatters, the main body of the plane was engulfed in flames and she gaped, who was still in there? And how did she get out? She had been going up the ladder to the cockpit to check the problem with the turbulence, when the aircraft had listed hard to the left and had sent her hurtling through the air. She winced at the remembrance of the impact with the plane. 

She thought she remembered hearing Cale speaking to her but she couldn't think of when exactly that might have been, before or after the crash. Nor could she remember what he had been saying to her. 

She looked around again seeing Shawnee to one side in handcuffs covered heavily by what she now recognized as Manticore Soldiers, probably from the Wyoming base. Slowly she eased herself off the stretcher and stood. With the way the world was spinning for her she was unsure it was a wise idea. She pressed on though moving toward an older Manticore who seemed to be in charge of the operation. He was a tall man with dark eyes and darker hair, she caught a glimpse of a bar code on his neck that she quickly translated. He was an X-5. He was conversing with another Manticore soldier who was X-6 about the details of the cleanup operation. She saluted him as she came close and he gave her a glance and a quick salute in return.

"Sir?" 

"X-8-222 you really shouldn't be up," He replied to her without looking at her, "You have a concussion."

She nodded, "Who else made it out?"

He absently handed the clipboard he was carrying to the X-6 and turned toward her looking concerned, "One of the X-10's who was with you and the Cat woman over there," he said pointing at Shawnee with his pen.

"No one else?"

"We can't tell the Silly-villians had the place all kinds of tore up by the time we got here. Can't make out any tracks specific to people leaving the plane, the fire crews messed that up. The tire tracks are all muddled we can't tell whether the tracks are from the rescue vehicles or other sources. If they did they left quickly, none of the first response people saw anyone around the plane when they arrived," He shook his head in disgust his gaze drifting to Shawnee again. "We're lucky that they did not come across her when they arrived, she had enough sense to stay out of sight at the very least. We'd never have gotten near this place short of force if they had."

"Have the bodies been recovered?"

"We haven't been able to get near the wreckage, it has been burning non stop since we got here."

Torri's brow furrowed, and she ignored the pain it caused her. She nodded toward Shawnee, "What did she say?"

"She hasn't said anything actually beyond your needing help. She acts like she is in shock." The man shifted feet narrowing his eyes in curiosity, "How many were with you?"

"Twelve of us were in the plane, two crew, myself, two X-10's, and the unit consisting of seven soldiers."

"You three are lucky to have made it out at all."

"Yeah," Torri replied absently, still perplexed about that. Something about her miraculous rescue did not seem right.

Shawnee was not strong enough really to carry her, who was the lighter of the two of them, much less Cory who weighed a good two fifty. And he was still unconscious so he could not have gotten them out. Slowly she looked around her wandering away from the X-5 without dismissing herself. She moved back over to where she had been laying looking for a clue that more readily explain why she was out here and not trapped in the plane still. After some moments she came to a small pool of blood in a crevice near the berm and a half buried piece of bloody bandage. Neither she nor Cory were hurt that badly, so where did the blood come from? Her mouth thinned as the implications became clear to her.

She stormed over toward where Shawnee was still being guarded saying sharply to the X-11's, "Let her up and get those cuffs off of her," She managed to sound indignant at the woman's treatment, "She's no threat to you."

The two closest moved swiftly raising Shawnee up by her bound arms and then unlocking the handcuffs. Shawnee looked incredulously at Torri as the stout woman grabbed her gently by the arm and drew her away from the crowd of Transgenics. When she had moved to sufficient distance to prevent being overheard, she turned Shawnee to face her, "Where are they?"

"Ma'am," She said innocently, "I was unconscious. I don't know what you are talking about."

"Shawnee don't play games with me," She pointed down to the not quite concealed evidence at their feet.

Shawnee followed their gaze down and then looked back into her eyes defiantly, "As I said, I was unconscious. That they are gone from here, was only obvious to me when I revived."

"Then why did they not take you?" Torri pressed. And she saw Shawnee's resolve crack a bit, and knew that she had found a chink in the armor of her story, "Where'd they go?" Torri hissed.

"That I do not know," Shawnee said softly, "But I think that you already know where they went."

Torri looked down nodding minutely, she then looked back into the tall woman's eyes, "They'll kill you once they find out, Shawnee," Torri spoke in a low sharp voice, "Why did you stay behind?"

"Because the outside world holds nothing for me," She said evenly, "I would rather stay behind and live the life I have always known than go into the world outside where I am unknowing and unknown. I have never been mistreated here with your people, if they kill me," She shrugged, "At least it will be a quick death, and I will not have compromised my convictions in the process."

Torri could not tear down her logic and she found herself nodding minutely. She knew deep down that as soon as Shawnee was returned she would be killed. Bryn did not seem like the type to buy that story and Shawnee would probably be sacrificed in the Transgenic's rage. Torri had bore witness to too many of Bryn's "Disciplinary Hearings" to believe otherwise. If the woman did not do that with her for this escape she would be genuinely surprised.

A thought came to Torri then and she left Shawnee standing where she was and again approached the X-5.

Hawker had been thoroughly smothered by his ecstatic mother when they pulled up to her doorstep. Kawea Lightfeather insisted that they have dinner and stay the night out of gratitude for the return of her son, the only living relative she had left. They relished the break giving them time to stretch their road weary muscles. 

They still wore the fatigues from the mission none of them willing to stop in a public place long enough to get changes of clothes. Hawker's mother tried to offer them something else to wear, but nothing she possessed fit either Case or Logan. She instead insisted that they be washed, including their undergarments, and gave them flowery silk robes to wear in the meantime. Hawker, who had clothes in the house that still fit him, and Mouse who looked, well natural in her robe both laughed so hard they were on the verge of tears. Logan and Case couldn't help but to laugh themselves. It eased the tension they all had been burdened with over the past several hundred miles. 

Getting out the smelly, stained, and stiff fatigues was a great relief, as was the long hot baths they were all allowed to take. Logan knew it was going to be depressing to have to put them back on in the morning. And in no small part because they were a grim reminder of his separation from Max for the past nine months.

Logan took the time while he soaked to change out the bloody bandage on his arm. Since nearly losing his leg from neglect five years earlier, he was adamant about properly treating any kind of injury he sustained. Short of going to a hospital however his arm was way above his First Aid training, and all he could do was keep it clean and dry until he got home. He was glad that his body had an amped up immune system now, or else he might be worried.

They had been well fed on venison and salmon with sides of vegetables from the garden behind her house, and wild berries for desert. It had been such a long time since any of them had eaten a decent meal they all overate, feeling bloated, yet satisfied with the meal.

Hawker's mother had been immediately enamoured with Mouse, surprising them all when she had begun to carry on a conversation with the girl solely in sign. Logan then recalled many times catching Hawker and Mouse talking in some corner of the barracks in her medium of communication. He had often been taken by the impression that Hawker and Mouse were "an item" though it never went beyond their hanging out together. 

By the end of the evening Mouse had relaxed considerably, smiling and laughing with them all, and a thought struck him. Logan inquired obliquely into Kawea's interest into taking the orphaned girl in. It was obvious that Mouse could be very happy in this environment, and Kawea was delighted with the proposition of someone else in the house to keep her company. Logan had hoped that Mouse would be as enthusiastic about the arrangement. She only looked a bit reluctant about staying with the practical stranger, but soon agreed. The two of them went off after that conversing quickly in sign about what arrangements would be needed.

They then sprawled on any piece of furniture that they found comfortable and slept soundly for the first time in longer than Logan could remember. The next morning they had said their farewells, Logan and Case looking on wistfully at how happy Hawker and his mother looked together, and how happy Mouse looked to find a place where she would be easily accepted. They had been still looking for their happy ending at that point.

Logan focused his gaze again drinking in the view before him. He thought the smoggy skyline of Seattle never looked so good in his life, and he was forced to quell the butterflies rising in his stomach as they neared the old and familiar paths that Logan was so used to all his life. The want in him to rush to his apartment was very strong and growing more insistent the closer they drew to his home. Again he fought against it, he wanted everything out of the way when he went back home, he wanted no distractions, no thoughts of what he was going to do with whom. 

That was why they were going to Tima's place first, if Tinga were still in the area, she would be staying at Tima's. If not it would be a good place for Case to stay until Logan could contact her. Logan was antsy to get Case and his mother reunited, he still felt he owed Tinga even after five years. She had been the one to make him see that he had a lot to live for after Max's assumed death. She had saved him from himself, and giving her son back would be about the best gift he would ever give anyone.

He felt a little jittery, a little too conspicuous driving through the streets of his hometown in a vehicle that screamed military. His eyes darted back and forth looking for signs of recognition from those on the streets, most totally ignored their presence, still the same screwed up world where people were just trying to get by. But the thought that there was a Manticore squad just looking for their arrival was nearly overwhelming. It was, after all, not the brightest move in the world to return to the same place that you had been captured from in the first place. Or maybe it was brilliant, who would be stupid enough to do such a thing?

Logan pulled the Humvee into an alley near Tima's place and shut off the vehicle. Case slowly woke beside him blinking blearily and looking unfocused out the window. "Where are we?" He asked through his deep yawn.

Logan smiled broadly, "Home."

Logan made his way up to Tima's balcony, rejecting the notion about anyone being home. He eased one back window open and slipped inside favoring his still sore shoulder. He was in the midst of turning around when he was pounced upon. Someone latched arms around his neck and he instinctively stepped back and pulled hard on the person's arms flipping whoever it was over his shoulder. To his surprise the person landed on their feet. She was immediately coming back at him throwing a left, which he caught in one hand, followed by a right and again he caught it. He pulled them both down towards her sides, smiling broadly as he recognized her saying, "Man this is just déjà vu, except its not dark and this is not a cellar."

Her arms went lax in his grip, "Logan?" Tinga queried. 

He smiled again releasing her arms and she suddenly wrapped them around him, crushing him in her arms. Logan returned the hug ignoring the white-hot pain on his arm from her strong grip. She stepped back from that unbridled joy after a moment looking him over. She was suddenly at a loss for words seeing him here when he should have been somewhere else. Logan smiled again, "I have a surprise for you." Tinga looked at Logan perplexed as he stepped back over to the window motioning his companion inside.

Slowly Case stepped in through the window but Logan blocked his entrance from Tinga. Case did not notice at first who it was in the room with Logan as he was slowly looking over the apartment around them.

"I found this," He grabbed Case by one sleeve and dragged him around to face Tinga. Both of them froze eyes locked on another, "I want to say you two know each other," Logan added unable to hold back his chuckle at their look.

"Mom?" Case said slowly as if unbelieving of his own eyes.

"Case?" Tinga said tears welling up in her eyes. She reached across the space between them to touch his face, "Oh my God I thought I lost you forever!" She said emotionally suddenly embracing him. He wrapped her up tightly in his own embrace burying his head in her shoulder trying to hide his own tears.

"I thought you were dead," he said in a muffled tone, "I thought they got you too."

"No baby I'm here." She said trying to sooth him running one hand through his hair. Looking up with watery eyes she smiled at Logan reaching out a hand to him. Logan took it squeezing it gently and nodding in understanding, "You found him…" she said in a breaking voice, "Thank you."

"We kinda found each other," Logan said shrugging.

Long moments passed as mother and son got reacquainted and then Tinga backed away looking her nearly grown son back over again. She smiled again warmly, lovingly at Case before turning back looking at Logan with curiosity.

"Max said…"

"She's alive?" Logan interrupted his heart leaping into his throat. Despite all the convincing he had tried to do to get himself to believe it he never had allowed himself that. He had not wanted to be disappointed again. "How is she?"

Tinga nodded slowly, "She's…um…fine."

"You don't sound very convinced of that Tinga," Logan said sounding worried.

"No, she really is alright, she'll be happy to see you."

Logan looked uncertain. Tinga then said, "Max said that you had been missed flying off to some unknown point. How'd you get here?"

"It is a long story, and no offense I would rather tell it later," Logan looked at her meaningfully.

Tinga nodded again, looking as if there was something else to tell, "Then you had better go to her, Logan, she's been a wreck without you."

Logan laughed shortly, "I find that hard to believe."

Tinga looked at him sternly, "Believe it. Go to her."


	24. Homecoming!

Chapter Twenty-Three: Homecoming

Torri stood at attention trying to ignore the swelling she could actually see in her cheeks and eyebrows, and the steady throbbing ache on her forehead as she faced her boss. Bryn was pacing angrily before her, livid at the recent turn of events.

"The salvage crew reported that the second Humvee was missing and only three bodies were burned in the fire. Where are the others?" She growled.

Torri feigned a look of shock, "I do not have that information Ma'am. I was unconscious for all of the events following the first explosion. I recovered after the crew had arrived from the Wyoming branch and by then the flames had engulfed the plane. I had thought that they were trapped in the fire and burned. If they escaped I had no knowledge of it."

"X-10-786 reported being assaulted by one of your unit after the crash of the airplane. He said that they were trying to escape."

"Ma'am as I said I was unconscious and by his own accounts he was only conscious for a short period, in the aircraft. That they escaped is now evident to me, but I had no knowledge of it."

Bryn sputtered, "Now we have seven test subjects with advanced military training and a vehicle full of weapons somewhere in the Northwestern United States. How could you let that happen?"

She looked at Bryn like she was stupid,. "How do you think it happened?" She growled startled by her own sarcasm.

"How dare you!" Bryn hissed.

"How dare I? With all due respect Ma'am, it was an accident, one that they used to great advantage, to be sure. They took the whole of the team with them. There was nothing I could have done to change the outcome of this. If you had wanted to prevent this you should not have sent them out."

"They were supposed to die in that crash!" Bryn blurted, immediately looking as if she regretted revealing that to Torri. 

Torri's eyes widened in shock and anger with the things that it implied, "You set up the explosion?"

The older Transgenic said nothing for long moments her eyes darting as if she was trying to think of a way out of this, "Is that what you intended for the rest of that crew as well? Is that what you intended for me?" Torri said raggedly.

"I'm sending you back to Washington, 222," Bryn said quickly, "You are not the sort I need out here."

"Thank God," Torri muttered.

"What was that?" 

"I said 'Thank God'. You and everyone here who works for you is crazy!" Torri said angrily, "This is the most ass backward base I have ever heard mention of!" She shook her head, "Why would you waste time and money training your testers to be soldiers only to try and eliminate them? What the hell kind of sense does that make? And you wanted me here to punish me, I know that for a fact now, you put me in charge of them and then you send me off to be killed with them because of some vague threat I seem to pose to you." Torri licked her lips, "Lydecker should never have reindoctrinated you, you know that? Being around that loon Renfro, the past however many years since, has made done nothing but make your mind mush! You've turned into a basket case, worse a basket case in a position of power! I'll gladly leave this base. Transfer me now."

Bryn's eyes narrowed thinking that she had found a lever to hurt Torri yet again, "No I think I will keep you here for a while longer. I'm sure that there is a job that you can do."

"You try to keep me here any longer and I will tell the committee what you just revealed to me. I don't think that they will take to kindly to the actions you've taken with their raw material."

"I am the committee!" she shouted rising from her seat closing the gap between them.

Torri stood her ground shaking her head, her eyes flint, "Funny, I don't believe you. I think that you made that up to get away with what you've done here, to get a hold of Cale and hurt X-5-452." Torri said in a low and menacing voice, "And I don't think they'll take kindly to you making decisions in their name."

"222 that is insubordination!"

"Yes, Ma'am, it is," Torri said snapping stiffly to attention and walking out without being dismissed.

Torri watched intently as the helicopter approached the tree-enshrouded Manticore Base that served the Washington State area. She felt herself come alive for the first time in nearly a year. Her time under Bryn's command still seemed like some sort of twisted nightmare that her mind was actively trying to deny the reality of. But it was over now…she was coming home.

She looked out the window again soothing her eyes on the tall pines that surrounded the base that she had grown up in, as her thoughts slipped back to her last unpleasant days in the desiccated hills in California.

Torri smiled again, she had never felt so good in her life as she had at that moment. She had been bottling up everything that she saw wrong with that base for so long that it had just exploded out of her at that moment. 

She had sent Shawnee to the Wyoming Base under strict secrecy, knowing Bryn would have shot her outright as soon as she had been offloaded from the plane. They were willing to comply with her request, especially when she mentioned Lydecker by name. He was still held in high regard by the small contingent still at the base there and promised to make Shawnee very comfortable in her new home. Torri tried not to see that as compassion, it was strategically smart of her, after all Shawnee was the most valuable experiment in the Manticore arsenal, a pure strain of the DNA that they based all of their soldiers on. Wyoming was glad to have her.

Torri refocused on her former and current commander as he finished reviewing her service record. Lydecker slowly looked through the last several pages of Bryn's report of Torri's performance, the scowl easy to read on his face. She stood at stiff attention more afraid of what he might be thinking of her than she ever was of Bryn's tirades.

When he was finished he closed the folder and leaned back drawing in and letting out a deep breath before he spoke, "Seems that you're time in California was an utter disaster."

"Yes sir," She answered simply.

"You were responsible for allowing the escape of seven personnel, assigned to the base for experimentation into the genetic anomalies of each subject?"

"Yes sir," she said succinctly. She was not going to argue semantics with him, she had been made the scapegoat to the committee for the loss of possible genetic contributors and she understood that. Bryn had sent her back here with a recommendation for a bust and seemed to think that this assignment was punishment for her, let her think it.

Bryn had come out of the whole ordeal clean, as Torri had expected, though she thought she could still bring the whole thing down around that infernal woman's ears. But she would wait, that trump card was still hers to play. 

"Well, what am I supposed to do with you?" Lydecker said with a sigh.

"That is not for me to speculate, sir." 

Lydecker nodded running a finger over his lips in thought. Slowly he stood grabbing the folder by one end, "This is not how I expect the soldiers under my command to act, Torri." He added wagging the folder up and down in front of her face.

"Yes sir," She answered.

He stepped around the desk and Torri watched in shock as the file slipped from his fingers and fell with a dull metallic thud into the wastebasket, "So, let's just say the last nine months never happened shall we?"

She stood a moment her mouth agape then looked into his eyes seeing the mirth there. She snapped to attention again saying smartly, "Yes sir!"

"I never did like that bitch anyway," She heard him mutter, then louder he said, "Welcome home soldier."

Max paced ceaselessly as the small bundle in her arms cried and squirmed. Even when she took a break from the pacing she would catch herself rocking from one foot to another in her effort to stop the angry keening.

Max found that there were tears in her eyes, she felt helpless in the face of her colicky child. She had done everything she could think of for the baby, she had just been fed, her diaper recently changed. Max had tried toys, reading to her, rocking her, but it availed her nothing. Even a revved up girl like herself had her limits.

Briana had been born just three days ago, a week earlier than she was supposed to have arrived. She had been demanding even prior to her birth, waking Max in the middle of he night with sharp kicks in sensitive places normally waking her out of a sound sleep, add to that the contractions three nights in a row prior to her birth. It had scared her, it was the same sort of pain she had associated with a miscarriage, and she had consulted Sam after the second day of it. He had assured her that she was fine and to come in when they had become three to five minutes apart for an hour.

Her water had broke just after she had gotten the news of the near rescue of her husband and in a panic she had called Bling. By the time he had arrived her contractions were sharp and almost nonstop. It was a trip that seemed to take forever and she had been convinced that she was going to have her baby in the back of the Aztec. By the time that she had arrived she was fully dilated and Sam had wasted no time getting her to the delivery room. In all labor only took three hours, though it had seemed much longer than that. It had been, thankfully, uneventful. She had been relieved and surprised, with all the stress she had undergone with Logan's disappearance and less than successful search she had been sure that there would be complications upon delivery.

The baby had weighed in at eight pound five ounces and nearly twenty-one inches long, her head circumference had been 21 centimeters around. She had found since that Briana's appetite was about equivalent to that of a horse, already she was up to consuming a five ounce bottle, and she had gained a pound and half since birth. 

Max resumed her pacing blinking in an attempt to maintain control over her raging emotions. It was the postpartum depression she knew, but it did nothing to stop her crying. Slowly the tide ebbed and Max settled a little bit, still sniffing and wiping her nose. In between she continued to pat Briana's back in an effort to comfort the angry child. She had completed about three full lengths of the hall she felt rather than heard the expulsion of trapped air from her small body. Immediately Briana's squirming slowed. Carefully Max moved Briana from her shoulder to cradle her in her own arms, looking down into that small face as the upset expression eased from it. She smiled as Briana yawned grandly, found her own thumb and proceeded to suckle it as she looked into her mother's face with those dark brooding blue eyes, Logan's eyes. Her other hand moved to an ear absently gripping and releasing it as she slowly drifted into a peaceful sleep.

Max watched it all transfixed, totally forgetting how upset she had been with Briana only moments ago. It happened every time she looked into that small round face, peaceful in sleep. She ran a hand lightly over the downy wisps of black hair on Briana's head as she wondered how she could be so much in love with someone so new to her life. Her love for Logan was…and always would be strong, but this kind of love was instinctive, soul deep, and binding, something entirely different. As far as she was concerned the mood swings and the Postpartum was worth the rewards she received in the presence of this lovely little person in her arms.

Slowly Max moved toward the bedroom converted for the moment into a temporary nursery. Max wanted Briana in the same room with her for now, until Briana showed signs of sleeping longer. She had started on an actual separate room for Briana, with Bling's help, but it was not yet ready and Max was not yet ready to have her apart. That had provided Max with it's own set of problems, having Briana in the same room meant that Max would wake seemingly every twenty minutes to ensure that Briana was still alive, or to feed her when she started to fuss even a little bit. Already she was drained from that topsy-turvy schedule and decided that she was going to have to consciously sit on herself to stop the practice. Two hours sleep was just not cutting it, especially when even that was broken. While that would have been an oddity even a year ago, she found she missed not having six to eight hours a night anymore. 

Max was intent not to wake the now sleeping bundle in her arms and stepped into the darkened room gently setting her charge into the waiting bassinet. Briana didn't even stir as Max covered her with a light blanket and straightened. She smiled again as she looked down into Briana's peaceful face and reached into the bassinet stroking her downy hair one more time before duty picked at her and she made herself turn and leave.

She was going to have to take advantage of the time Briana's nap gave her to get some of the severely neglected housework done. Max stepped out and quietly closed the door behind her. She strode past the hallway gathering up some of the piles of clothes that had accumulated in the weeks just prior to Briana's birth when she had felt like doing absolutely nothing. She was so intent on her work that when she stepped out of the kitchen and moved down the hall toward the living room she did not notice the presence in her house. As she started back the direction she had come she finally noticed him standing just inside the door of the apartment. She stopped abruptly, her mouth agape and the basket fell out of her hands to thud dully on the hardwood floor.

If she had not known him for so long she would have thought that he was an intruder, a stranger for he looked so different from when she had last seen him. He looked so much older and not all of it was his appearance either. He did nothing but stare, silent and still as a stone, and for long moments neither of them moved.

He was thin almost gaunt to her eyes, his shortly cut hair heavily grayed. He was clean-shaven with only a half days hint of stubble on his chin and his blue eyes were intent and a little icy, as if he had just survived an ordeal.

He was wearing a set of black fatigues that were travel worn his combat boots were scuffed heavily and were no longer black. One sleeve was ripped slightly and Max could see the dirty bandage that peeked out from what she thought might have been a bullet hole, starkly white against the black of his uniform. The sleeve was stained around that tear and she was sure that it had been blood. On one breast pocket was a bright red patch with a Manticore symbol that read "Cadre Rojas" along the border. Sitting on the floor next to his feet was a small black bag. 

"Logan?" Max finally whispered breaking the silence. She squinted unable to believe that he was here now after being absent for so long, trying to see through what her mind was trying to tell her was a hormone induced illusion. 

It was obvious he had been standing there for some time watching her movements through the house, staring incredulously at her as if he was unsure that this was reality himself. He was unbelieving of his own eyes that he was here in this moment. Slowly he stepped forward, approaching her warily, still staring at her in that odd way. Max was unable to move, either to go to him or to retreat and before long he was just a half a pace away from her staring down into her almond eyes with his suddenly emotional blue ones.

He searched her face restlessly as one of his hands raised to touch her face, she noticed he was shaking, and she found that she was as well. He exhaled sharply in relief smiling at her as his fingers made contact with her cheek, "Max…" He exhaled softly, his voice raw with emotion. Abruptly he wrapped her in an embrace his whole body trembling. Slowly Max wrapped her own arms around him, closing her eyes and ignoring the tears that were streaming freely down her cheeks.

Slowly his shaking disappeared and he relinquished his embrace leaning back to look at her again. His brows furrowed as he took notice of the still fading scar on her brow and cheek, running his thumb lightly over the smooth line there. His hands ran down her face and neck to rest on her shoulders. He stared into her eyes with an intense expression that was a mixture or relief, anxiety, and pain.

"I thought…" He swallowed, "I never knew…I thought," And his brow furrowed again as he looked down frowning, "I thought you might have been killed." He looked back at her again emotion playing over his face again, "Last I remembered was you and Bryn…"

"I'm fine," Max said slowly interrupting his halting explanation, and locking his eyes.

"But you didn't leave."

"How could I?" Max said hearing her own emotions bleeding into her voice, "You had to come home eventually."

"It was a near thing," he said his voice hollow suddenly his eyes haunted. He chewed his lip as he looked at her then nodded raising his eyebrows, "You haven't changed, not a bit." There was an unasked question in his tone, a sad tone that told her he was disappointed. Her brows furrowed in concern wondering what he might be thinking.

She was about to ask what was troubling him, when Briana interrupted their reunion, her cries clearly heard through the door. Logan jumped at the sound his eyes quickly on the closed door. He looked back at her with a furrowed brow and then his face brightened in surprise. His hands dropped slowly from their contact with her skin his attention now wholly on the angry squalling coming from behind the door. Hesitantly stepped away from her taking several calculated steps toward the door, he looked back at her again, a crooked smile breaking over his features. She followed in his shadow as he quickened his pace striding with ground covering steps that quickly brought him to the door.

He halted there for long moments just staring at the doorknob listening to the sound issuing from the other side. Max was hardly breathing, excited, and wanting to answer the question on his face, but allowing him to actually see what they had wrought together. He reached for the door slowly, and Max wanted to rush past him and fling the door open to reveal what was behind the door. Slowly Logan turned the knob and opened the door and stepped into the dark cautiously moving closer to the bassinet. He simply stared at the baby for long moment's one hand covering his mouth. The baby had kicked off her light covering and was flailing helplessly with all four limbs. Logan reached into the basket gently lifting the crying child into his arms.

Much to Max's surprise, Briana ceased crying as soon as Logan had settled her into the crook of one arm. She was looking Logan straight in the eyes unnervingly like she knew this man holding her, like she had orchestrated her wailing to draw his attention and greet him herself. Absently Logan carried his daughter to a nearby chair and sat down, totally oblivious to anything but Briana's gaze. Briana had mesmerized him just as she had done to Max so many times.

Logan ran a hand slowly over Briana's head his smile broadening. Finally he looked up at Max again, "What…What's her name?"

"Briana," Max whispered.

"She's beautiful," Logan said just as softly. Max would have sworn that she saw Briana smile at his comment. Logan stood, "You are too of course," He said longingly as if he did not want her to feel left out. He leaned over Briana in his arms kissing Max lovingly, wrapping his arm around her. He opened his eyes as he broke off the kiss one hand entwined in hers.

"I was beginning to think that I would never get to see this," Logan said in a broken voice, and Max saw the tears of relief and joy in Logan's eyes.

"But you're home now," Max said smiling at him.

He looked down a moment at his daughter and then back at Max, "I couldn't have asked for a better homecoming."

THE END! 

(finally, eh?)

All together now AWWWWW! Jasmine, are you happy now? Just the happy ending you wanted! I promise to leave them alone for a while and let them enjoy each other!

Hope you liked my…well project…as one of my fans put it, my Novel. I never really intended it to get this long, and I hope I didn't lose anyone in the process of development. 

As far as future projects, WHEW! At the moment I am tapped out…Let me work over my Predator story some to satisfy that section of my fan club and give me a little time to enjoy my family now that I am home from that slow boat ride around the ocean…(YEAH!). I will get back to you, though I promise! Looking at a Zach/Tima story maybe, some SML? It's a thought. Other than that, can't think…

Gotta bounce for now, thanks to all my fans for all the support you have given me on this story, even through the rough parts, you guys are the best! No, really, you are!

Darwin


End file.
